All the men rose to their feet, except the elder d'Ombré, who had taken a very long draught of his host's good wine, and now stared stupidly at the others. César d'Ombré's eyes flamed with excitement. He seized the arm of Angelot, who was next to him, in such a grip that the young fellow flinched and frowned.
"It is our moment!" he cried. "Six to two"—then savagely, and tightening his grasp—"unless we are betrayed—"
"What do you mean, sir?" cried Angelot, his uncle, and Monsieur de Bourmont, all in a breath.
Monsieur des Barres laughed as he looked at Henriette.
"The idea is absurd," he said—"and yet," in a lower tone—"mademoiselle has proved herself an amazingly true prophetess. However, it is absurd—"
There was a moment or two of uproar. Angelot, having impatiently shaken off the Baron's hand, was demanding that he should withdraw his words. He, having apparently at once forgotten them, was insisting that now indeed was the time to prove a man's loyalty, that they must stand all together and dare all things, that the Prefect and the General, once at Les Chouettes, must never leave it but as prisoners, that the Government would be instantly demoralised, and the insurrection would catch and flame like a fire in dry grass—
"And be put out as easily," shouted Monsieur de Bourmont. "Madness, madness! Mere midsummer foolery. Go and hide yourself, firebrand!"
"Shoot them on the spot! Where are my pistols?" stammered the old Comte, beginning to understand the situation.
Monsieur des Barres laughed till he held his sides. Henriette gave him one or two angry and scornful glances, while Gigot, under her orders, whisked glasses and plates and dishes into a cupboard, pushed back chairs against the wall, took away every sign of the good meal just begun. In the midst of all this clatter Monsieur Joseph said a few words with eager nods and signs to Monsieur de Bourmont, and they two, taking the old man by each arm, led him forcibly out towards the west side of the house.
"Bring the others!" said Monsieur Joseph to his nephew, who was listening as if fascinated to César d'Ombré's ravings.