"But, aunt," timidly suggested Cornelia, "should not that book be also for girls who reach maturity? They become wives and mothers. Should not they also be nourished in the love of justice and in the abhorrence of tyranny, to the end that they may bring up their children to virile principles, regain for woman equal rights with man, and share both the self-denial and the dangers of their husbands when the hour of battle and of sacrifice shall have come?"
Cornelia looked so beautiful as she gave utterance to these patriotic sentiments that all the members of the Lebrenn family turned their eyes admiringly toward the young girl.
"Oh, my brave one!" exclaimed Antonicq, rising and taking Cornelia's hands in his own with a transport of love. "How proud I am of your love! What generous duties does it not impose upon me! Well, it is to be to-morrow—the happy day for you and me—the day when we are to be joined in wedlock!"
Hardly had Antonicq finished his sentence when the tramp of a horse's hoofs was heard in the street. It stopped at the armorer's door. Theresa Rennepont rose with a start, and ran to the door crying: "My husband!"
CHAPTER VIII.
ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S NIGHT.
The presentiment of the young wife did not deceive her. The door opened and Theresa fell into the arms of Louis Rennepont.
The joy of the Lebrenn family over the return of one of its members from a distant journey dominated at first all other feelings and thoughts. Immediately after the first outpourings of affection the same question escaped at once from all lips:
"What tidings from Paris, and about Admiral Coligny?"
Alas! it was only then that the members of the Lebrenn family noticed the profound alteration of Louis Rennepont's appearance, and his wife, who had been scrutinizing the young man's face with eager and uneasy curiosity, suddenly cried:
"Great God! Louis, your hair has turned grey!"