he face of history as though it had never
been. A new condition of things will spring up, of that I am convinced.
Does not history afford us many instances? And what is history but the
repetition of events under similar circumstances with different peoples.
It will come in France, and it will come soon, for it is very direly
needed."

"I know, I know, old master," broke in La Boulaye; "but how shall all
this help me? For all that I have the welfare of France at heart, it
weighs little with me at the moment by comparison with my own affairs.
What am I to do, Duhamel? How am I to take payment for this?" And he
pressed his finger to his seared cheek.

"Wait," said the old man impressively. "That is the moral you might have
drawn from what I have said. Be patient. I promise you your patience
shall not be overtaxed. To-day they say that you presume; that you are
not one of them--although, by my soul, you have as good an air as any
nobleman in France." And he eyed the lean height of the secretary with a
glance of such pride as a father might take in a well-grown son.

Elegant of figure, La Boulaye was no less elegant in dress, for all
that, from head to foot--saving the silver buckles on his shoes and the
unpretentious lace at throat and wrists--he was dressed in the black
that his office demanded. His countenance, too, though cast in a mould
of thoughtfulness that bordered on the melancholy, bore a lofty stamp
that might have passed for birth and breeding, and this was enhanced by
the careful dressing of his black unpowdered hair, gathered into a club
by a broad ribbon of black silk.

"But what shall waiting avail me?" cried the young man, with some
impatience. "What am I to do in the meantime?"

"Go to Amiens," said the other. "You have learning, you have eloquence,
you have a presence and an excellent address. For success no
better attributes could be yours." He approached the secretary, and
instinctively lowered his voice. "We have a little club there--a sort of
succursal to the Jacobins. We are numerous, but we have no very shining
member yet. Come with me, and I will nominate you. Beginning thus,
I promise you that you shall presently become a man of prominence
in Picardy. Anon we may send you to Paris to represent us in the
States-General. Then, when the change comes, who shall say to what
heights it may not be yours to leap?"

"I will think of it," answered La Boulaye cordially, "and not a doubt of
it but that