“At Reichenau, madam.”
“Where is that?”
“In Switzerland, on the frontiers of the Vorarlberg.”
“And your parents are both dead, and you have actually none in the shape of relatives?”
“Not one, madam.”
She whispered something here to the minister, who quickly said,—
“Certainly, if you wish it.”
“Tell me, sir,” said she, addressing me again, “who is this same Count de Gabriac, of whom mention is made here. Is he the person called Couvre-Tête in the circles of the Jacobins?”
“I never have heard him so called, madam.”
“You know him at least to be of that party?”