ing to provide an antidote
to the irritant administered by his companion. "We require your help,
Andre. Danton here thinks that you are the very man for us. Listen
now..."

"That's it. You tell him," Danton agreed. "You both talk the same
mincing--sort of French. He'll probably understand you."

Le Chapelier went on without heeding the interruption. "This violation
by the King of the obvious rights of a country engaged in framing a
constitution that shall make it free has shattered every philanthropic
illusion we still cherished. There are those who go so far as to
proclaim the King the vowed enemy of France. But that, of course, is
excessive."

"Who says so?" blazed Danton, and swore horribly by way of conveying his
total disagreement.

Le Chapelier waved him into silence, and proceeded.

"Anyhow, the matter has been more than enough, added to all the rest,
to set us by the ears again in the Assembly. It is open war between the
Third Estate and the Privileged."

"Was it ever anything else?"

"Perhaps not; but it has assumed a new character. You'll have heard of
the duel between Lameth and the Duc de Castries?"

"A trifling affair."

"In its results. But it might have been far other. Mirabeau is
challenged and insulted now at every sitting. But he goes his way,
cold-bloodedly wise. Others are not so circumspect; they meet insult
with insult, blow with blow, and blood is being shed in private duels.
The thing is reduced by these swordsmen of the nobility to a system."

Andre-Louis nodded. He was thinking of Philippe de Vilmorin. "Yes," he
said, "it is an old trick of theirs. It is so simple and direct--like
themselves. I wonder only that they didn't hit upon this system sooner.
In the early days of the States General, at Versailles, it might have
had a better effect. Now, it comes a little late."

"But they mean to make up for lost time--sacred name!" cried Danton.
"Challenges are flying right and left between these bully-swordsmen,
these spadassinicides, and poor devils of the robe who have never learnt
to fence with anything but a quill. It's just ------ murder. Yet if I were
to go amongst messieurs les nobles and crunch an addled head or two with
this stick of mine, snap a few aristocratic necks between these fingers
which the good God has given me for the purpose, the law would send
me to atone upon the gallows. This in a land that is striving after
liberty. Why, Dieu me damne! I am not even allowed to