Madam Lebrenn embraced her son, saying:
"I did not expect the pleasure, son, of seeing you here to-day."
"I went to the College for him," explained the merchant. "You will presently know the reason, my dear Henory."
"Without being exactly uneasy about you," said Madam Lebrenn to her husband, "Velleda and I were beginning to wonder what kept you away so long. It seems that the commotion in Paris is on the increase. Do you know they sounded the call to arms?"
"Oh! Mother," cried Sacrovir with eyes that sparkled with enthusiasm, "Paris has the fever—it follows that all hearts must be beating more strongly. Without knowing one another, people look for and understand at a glance. On all the streets the words you hear are ardent, patriotic appeals to arms. In short, it smells of gunpowder. Oh, mother! mother!" added the young man with exaltation, "what a beautiful sight is the awakening of a people!"
"Keep cool, enthusiast that you are!" said Madam Lebrenn.
And with her handkerchief she wiped the perspiration that stood in drops on her son's forehead. In the meantime Monsieur Lebrenn embraced his daughter.
"Gildas," the merchant called out to his clerk, "some chests must have been brought in during my absence."
"Yes, monsieur, linen bales and looking glasses. They have been deposited in the rear room."
"Very well—they can remain there. Be careful no fire comes near the bales."