, he took advantage of one of my often-repeated
protestations of ignorance of the whole matter, suddenly to say, "Well,
then, Monsieur, go and see for yourself, and you will soon be satisfied
that my account of the order is true." "Go and see what?" "The
Templars." "There are no longer any." "They exist still." "Where?"
"Here, in Paris." "This is new to me: I do not understand it." "The
Templars exist; they possess documents to prove how much Scott has
misrepresented them, and--but, you will remember that the actual
government has so much jealousy of everything it does not control, that
secrecy is necessary--and, to be frank with you, M. ----, I am
commissioned by the Grand Master, to invite you to be present at a
secret meeting, this very week."

Of course, I immediately conjectured that some of the political
agitators of the day had assumed this taking guise, in order to combine
their means, and carry out their plans.[31] The proposition was gotten
rid of, by my stating, in terms that could not be misunderstood, that I
was a traveller, and did not wish to meddle with anything that required
secrecy, in a foreign government; that I certainly had my own political
notions, and if pushed, should not hesitate to avow them anywhere; that
the proper place for a writer to declare his sentiments, was in his
books, unless under circumstances which authorized him to act; that I
did not conceive foreigners were justifiable in going beyond this; that
I never had meddled with the affairs of foreign countries, and that I
never would; and that the fact of this society's being secret, was
sufficient to deter me from visiting it. With this answer, my guest
departed, and he never came again.

[Footnote 31: Since the revolution of 1830, these Templars have made
public, but abortive efforts, to bring themselves into notice, by
instituting some ceremonies, in which they appeared openly in their
robes.]

Now, the first impression was, as I have told you, and I supposed my
visitor, although a man of fifty, was one of those who innocently lent
himself to these silly exaggerations; either as a dupe, or to dupe
others. I saw reason, however, to change this opinion.

At the time these visits occurred, I scarcely knew any one in Paris, and
was living in absolute retirement--being, as you know already, quite
without letters. About ten days after I saw the last of my
_litterateur_, I got a letter from a high functionary of the government,
sendi