his bent back bobbing up and down, in
the direction of the Rue Rambuteau; whilst Charvet and Clemence went
off through the markets on their return to the Luxembourg quarter, their
heels sounding on the flag-stones in military fashion, whilst they still
discussed some question of politics or philosophy, walking along side by
side, but never arm-in-arm.

The conspiracy ripened very slowly. At the commencement of the summer
the plotters had got no further than agreeing that it was necessary a
stroke should be attempted. Florent, who had at first looked upon
the whole business with a kind of distrust, had now, however, come to
believe in the possibility of a revolutionary movement. He took up the
matter seriously; making notes, and preparing plans in writing, while
the others still did nothing but talk. For his part, he began to
concentrate his whole life in the one persistent idea which made his
brain throb night after night; and this to such a degree that he at last
took his brother Quenu with him to Monsieur Lebigre's, as though such a
course were quite natural. Certainly he had no thought of doing anything
improper. He still looked upon Quenu as in some degree his pupil, and
may even have considered it his duty to start him on the proper path.
Quenu was an absolute novice in politics, but after spending five or six
evenings in the little room he found himself quite in accord with the
others. When Lisa was not present he manifested much docility, a sort of
respect for his brother's opinions. But the greatest charm of the affair
for him was really the mild dissipation of leaving his shop and shutting
himself up in the little room where the others shouted so loudly, and
where Clemence's presence, in his opinion, gave a tinge of rakishness
and romance to the proceedings. He now made all haste with his
chitterlings in order that he might get away as early as possible,
anxious to lose not a single word of the discussions, which seemed to
him to be very brilliant, though he was not always able to follow them.
The beautiful Lisa did not fail to notice his hurry to be gone, but as
yet she refrained from saying anything. When Florent took him off, she
simply went to the door-step, and watched them enter Monsieur Lebigre's,
her face paling somewhat, and a severe expression coming into her eyes.

One evening, as Mademoiselle Saget was peering out of her garret
casement, she recognised Quenu's shadow on the frosted glass of the
"ca