"Lorin," said Maurice, "a truce to Dorat, to Parny, and to Gentil-Bernard, I pray you. Speak seriously; will you, or will you not, give me the password?"
"That is to say, Maurice, you place me in this dilemma,—I must either sacrifice my duty to my friend, or my friend to my duty; but I fear, Maurice, my duty will fall the sacrifice."
"Decide, then, for one or the other, my friend; but in the name of Heaven, decide quickly."
"You will not abuse it?"
"I promise you."
"That is not sufficient; swear!"
"Upon what?"
"Swear upon the altar of your country."
Lorin pulled off his hat, presenting to Maurice the side with the cockade, and Maurice, finding the affair very simple, took, without smiling, the oath required upon this improvised altar.
"Now, then," said Lorin, "this is the password—France and Lutèce; perhaps you would say, France and Lucrèce; but let that pass, it is Roman all the same."