a German, and, according
to me, an Englishman."

"I don't know," replied Morgan; "I wasn't there. Ask Hector; he presided
that night."

"Tell us where Hector is?"

"Tell me rather where Tiffauges is; I am looking for him."

"Over there, at the end of the room," said the young man, pointing to a
part of the room where the dance was more than usually gay and animated.
"You will recognize him by his waistcoat; and his trousers are not to be
despised. I shall have a pair like them made with the skin of the very
first hound I meet."

Morgan did not take time to ask in what way Tiffauges' waistcoat was
remarkable, or by what queer cut or precious material his trousers had
won the approbation of a man as expert in such matters as he who had
spoken to him. He went straight to the point indicated by the young
man, saw the person he was seeking dancing an ete, which seemed, by the
intricacy of its weaving, if I may be pardoned for this technical term,
to have issued from the salons of Vestris himself.

Morgan made a sign to the dancer. Tiffauges stopped instantly, bowed
to his partner, led her to her seat, excused himself on the plea of
the urgency of the matter which called him away, and returned to take
Morgan's arm.

"Did you see him," Tiffauges asked Morgan.

"I have just left him," replied the latter.

"Did you deliver the King's letter?"

"To himself."

"Did he read it?"

"At once."

"Has he sent an answer?"

"Two; one verbal, one written; the second dispenses with the first."

"You have it?"

"Here it is."

"Do you know the contents?"

"A refusal."

"Positive?"

"Nothing could be more positive."

"Does he know that from the moment he takes all hope away from us we
shall treat him as an enemy?"

"I told him so."

"What did he answer?"

"He didn't answer; he shrugged his shoulders."

"What do you think his intentions are?"

"It's not difficult to guess."

"Does he mean to keep the power himself?"

"It looks like it."

"The power, but not the throne?"

"Why not the throne?"

"He would never dare to make himself king."

"Oh! I can't say he means to be absolutely king, but I'll answer for it
that he means to be something."

"But he is nothing but a soldier of fortune!"

"My dear fellow, better in these days to be the son of his deeds, than
the grandson of a king."

The young man thought a moment.

"I shall report it all to Cadoudal," he said.

"And add that the First Consu