ight on this very obscure complication of
circumstances. A grand seigneur would naturally be more complaisant to
a man of your station than he would be to an agent of police. Don
Juan's son, inheriting his father's title, is Monsieur le Marquis de
Rochebriant; and permit me to add, that at this moment, as the journals
doubtless inform you, all Paris resounds with the rumour of the coming
war; and Monsieur de Rochebriant--who is, as I have ascertained, now
in Paris--it may be difficult to find anywhere on earth a month or
two hence.--I have the honour, with profound consideration, &c., &c.,
RENARD."

The day after the receipt of this letter Graham Vane was in Paris.

CHAPTER II.

Among things indescribable is that which is called "Agitation" in
Paris--"Agitation" without riot or violence--showing itself by no
disorderly act, no turbulent outburst. Perhaps the cafes are more
crowded; passengers in the streets stop each other more often, and
converse in small knots and groups; yet, on the whole, there is little
externally to show how loudly the heart of Paris is beating. A traveller
may be passing through quiet landscapes, unconscious that a great battle
is going on some miles off, but if he will stop and put his ear to the
ground he will recognise by a certain indescribable vibration, the voice
of the cannon.

But at Paris an acute observer need not stop and put his ear to the
ground; he feels within himself a vibration--a mysterious inward
sympathy which communicates to the individual a conscious thrill--when
the passions of the multitude are stirred, no matter how silently.

Tortoni's cafe was thronged when Duplessis and Frederic Lemercier
entered it: it was in vain to order breakfast; no table was vacant
either within the rooms or under the awnings without.

But they could not retreat so quickly as they had entered. On catching
sight of the financier several men rose and gathered round him, eagerly
questioning:

"What do you think, Duplessis? Will any insult to France put a drop of
warm blood into the frigid veins of that miserable Ollivier?"

"It is not yet clear that France has been insulted, Messieurs," replied
Duplessis, phlegmatically.

"Bah! Not insulted! The very nomination of a Hohenzollern to the crown
of Spain was an insult--what would you have more?"

"I tell you what it is, Duplessis," said the Vicomte de Breze, whose
habitual light good temper seemed exchanged for insolent swagger--"I
te