like that. She likes no one to come between us."

"Well, we shall see. I should be more easy if only that Jacobin hound
were dead, or past barking. He is in a bad way, I hear. I could have
wished that you had been of a mind to have waited a little longer before
you spoke to her."

Rene smiled. "Why did you leave us alone to-night? It is you, sir, who
are responsible."

"_Potstausend! Donnerwetter!_ You saucy boy! Go to bed and repent. There
are only two languages in which a man can find good, fat, mouth-filling
oaths, and the English oaths are too naughty for a good Quaker house."

"You seem to have found one, sir. It sounds like thunder. We can do it
pretty well in French."

"Child's talk, prattle. Go to bed. What will the mother say? Oh, not
yours. Madame Swanwick has her own share of pride. Can't you wait a
while?"

"No. I must know."

"Well, Mr. Obstinate Man, we shall see." The wisdom of waiting he saw,
and yet he had deliberately been false to the advice he had more than
once given. Rene left him, and Schmidt turned, as he loved to do, to the
counselor Montaigne, just now his busy-minded comrade, and, lighting
upon the chapter on reading, saw what pleased him.

"That is good advice, in life and for books. To have a 'skipping wit.'
We must skip a little time. I was foolish. How many threads there are in
this tangle men call life!" And with this he read over the letters just
come that morning from Germany. Then he considered Carteaux again.

"If that fellow is tormented into taking his revenge, and I should be
away, as I may be, there will be the deuce to pay.

"Perhaps I might have given Rene wiser advice; but with no proof
concerning the fate of the despatch, there was no course which was
entirely satisfactory. Best to let the sleeping dog lie. But why did I
leave them on the ice? _Sapristi!_ I am as bad as Mistress Gainor. But
she is not caught yet, Master Rene."

XXIII

In few days Margaret was able to be afoot, although still lame; but Rene
had no chance to see her. She was not to be caught alone, and would go
on a long-promised visit to Merion. Thus February passed, and March, and
April came, when personal and political matters abruptly broke up for a
time their peaceful household.

Margaret had been long at home again, but still with a woman's wit she
avoided her lover. Aunt Gainor, ever busy, came and went, always with a
dozen things to do.

Her attentions to Madame de Courval less