"What is the news, messieurs? Is the agitation in Paris subsiding?"
"On the contrary, madam, 'tis getting hotter—and still hotter," answered Dupont with barely concealed satisfaction. "They have commenced to throw up barricades in the St. Antoine quarter. To-night the preparations—to-morrow, battle."
Hardly had Dupont uttered these words, when a formidable clamor was heard from the distance, the words "Long live the Reform!" being distinctly audible.
Gildas ran to the door.
"Let's hurry," said Dupont to his companion. "Our truck may be taken for the center of a barricade; it would be premature—we have still several errands to attend to;" and bowing to Madam Lebrenn, he added, "Our regards to your husband, madam."
The two men leaped upon the seat of their truck, gave their horse the whip, and drove away in the direction opposite to that whence the clamor proceeded.
Gildas had closely followed with his eyes and with renewed uneasiness the new concourse of people near the St. Denis Gate. Suddenly he saw Pradeline emerge from the cafe which she had entered a few minutes before, and direct her steps towards the shop, holding a letter in her hand.
"What a persistent minx! She has been writing to me!" thought Gildas. "The wretched woman is bringing me the letter herself! A declaration! I am going to be disgraced in the eyes of my employers!"
The bewildered Gildas stepped in quickly, closed the door, turned the key, and cuddled up quiet as a mouse close to the desk.
"Well," said Madam Lebrenn, "why do you lock the door, Gildas?"