t he had that day lighted the torch of the
Revolution in Nantes, it might with even greater truth be said that the
torch itself was supplied by the opulent bourgeoisie.

I need not dwell at any length upon the sequel. It is a matter of
history how that oath which Omnes Omnibus administered to the citizens
of Nantes formed the backbone of the formal protest which they drew up
and signed in their thousands. Nor were the results of that powerful
protest--which, after all, might already be said to harmonize with the
expressed will of the sovereign himself--long delayed. Who shall say how
far it may have strengthened the hand of Necker, when on the 27th of
that same month of November he compelled the Council to adopt the most
significant and comprehensive of all those measures to which clergy and
nobility had refused their consent? On that date was published the royal
decree ordaining that the deputies to be elected to the States General
should number at least one thousand, and that the deputies of the
Third Estate should be fully representative by numbering as many as the
deputies of clergy and nobility together.

CHAPTER IX. THE AFTERMATH

Dusk of the following day was falling when the homing Andre-Louis
approached Gavrillac. Realizing fully what a hue and cry there would
presently be for the apostle of revolution who had summoned the people
of Nantes to arms, he desired as far as possible to conceal the fact
that he had been in that maritime city. Therefore he made a wide detour,
crossing the river at Bruz, and recrossing it a little above Chavagne,
so as to approach Gavrillac from the north, and create the impression
that he was returning from Rennes, whither he was known to have gone two
days ago.

Within a mile or so of the village he caught in the fading light his
first glimpse of a figure on horseback pacing slowly towards him. But
it was not until they had come within a few yards of each other, and he
observed that this cloaked figure was leaning forward to peer at him,
that he took much notice of it. And then he found himself challenged
almost at once by a woman's voice.

"It is you, Andre--at last!"

He drew rein, mildly surprised, to be assailed by another question,
impatiently, anxiously asked.

"Where have you been?"

"Where have I been, Cousin Aline? Oh... seeing the world."

"I have been patrolling this road since noon to-day waiting for
you." She spoke breathlessly, in haste to explain. "A