companionable terms. He was a smith, and had done well at the
trade until the revolution broke out, since then I had heard nothing
from him. He was a shrewd fellow, and I thought he would be likely to
keep near the top of the wheel. But I had a perilous time after getting
into Paris before I could find him. I learned as many of the _canaille_
watchwords by heart as I could. I thought they would serve me if I was
questioned; but my dangers thickened, until I was at last laid hold of,
for not giving satisfactory answers, as _un homme sans aveu_, and was on
the point of being conveyed to a _maison d'arret_, when I mentioned the
name of Maurice Herbois as a person who could speak in my favor. "What,"
said one, "_le Citoyen Herbois_?" "The very same," said I, "and little
thanks will you get from him for slandering his cousin with a charge of
_incivisme_." There was a general shout at this, and off we hurried to
find Maurice. I had answered nothing of whence I came or where I was
going, which was the reason I had at length got into trouble. I knew
Maurice to be a true fellow, revolution or no revolution, and so
determined to hold my peace till I should meet him. I found that he had
been rapidly advanced by the tide of affairs, which had set him forward
whether he would or no. Indeed Maurice was no insignificant fellow at
any rate. The noise of the men who carried me along, soon brought him
out. I spoke first: "Maurice, my dear cousin, I am glad to find you; but
before we can shake hands, you must first certify my--loyalty," I was
about to say, but bit my tongue, and got out "_civisme_." "My friends,"
said Maurice, "this is my cousin Louis Herbois, once a valiant soldier,
now a brave and incorruptible _citoyen_. He is trustworthy; he comes to
visit me; I vouch for him." This was so satisfactory, that we were
greeted with huzzas, and then I went in with Maurice. I need not tell
you how much passed between us. In short, we talked till our tongues
were tired. I found my cousin as I expected, true as a piece of his own
steel. He had been carried along, in spite of himself, in the course of
revolution, and had become a great man as the best chance of saving his
head. I told him my whole story, and the object of my visit. "A
fruitless errand, Louis," said he; "I know the case; and where personal
malice is added to the ordinary motive for prosecution, there is no
escape. Poor fellow, I wish I could help him; but the uncle, he is in
pow