sembly, Andre-Louis announced--in much the same terms as he had
announced the death of Chabrillane--that M. de La Motte-Royau would
probably not disturb the harmony of the Assembly for some weeks to come,
assuming that he were so fortunate as to recover ultimately from the
effects of an unpleasant accident with which he had quite unexpectedly
had the misfortune to meet that morning.

On Thursday he made an identical announcement with regard to the Vidame
de Blavon. On Friday he told them that he had been delayed by M. de
Troiscantins, and then turning to the members of the Cote Droit, and
lengthening his face to a sympathetic gravity:

"I am glad to inform you, messieurs, that M. des Troiscantins is in the
hands of a very competent surgeon who hopes with care to restore him to
your councils in a few weeks' time."

It was paralyzing, fantastic, unreal; and friend and foe in that
assembly sat alike stupefied under those bland daily announcements. Four
of the most redoubtable spadassinicides put away for a time, one of
them dead--and all this performed with such an air of indifference and
announced in such casual terms by a wretched little provincial lawyer!

He began to assume in their eyes a romantic aspect. Even that group of
philosophers of the Cote Gauche, who refused to worship any force
but the force of reason, began to look upon him with a respect and
consideration which no oratorical triumphs could ever have procured him.

And from the Assembly the fame of him oozed out gradually over Paris.
Desmoulins wrote a panegyric upon him in his paper "Les Revolutions,"
wherein he dubbed him the "Paladin of the Third Estate," a name
that caught the fancy of the people, and clung to him for some time.
Disdainfully was he mentioned in the "Actes des Apotres," the mocking
organ of the Privileged party, so light-heartedly and provocatively
edited by a group of gentlemen afflicted by a singular mental myopy.

The Friday of that very busy week in the life of this young man who even
thereafter is to persist in reminding us that he is not in any sense a
man of action, found the vestibule of the Manege empty of swordsmen
when he made his leisurely and expectant egress between Le Chapelier and
Kersain.

So surprised was he that he checked in his stride.

"Have they had enough?" he wondered, addressing the question to Le
Chapelier.

"They have had enough of you, I should think," was the answer. "They
will prefer to turn thei