“Monsieur,” he answered, “I have nothing to offer one like you but my devotion—I have had very few friends—but if you will be troubled with me I will pledge my service to you—always.”
M. de Voltaire looked at him thoughtfully.
“You have the spirit,” he said—“yes, you have the spirit that is to waken France and re-create her. Do you not feel it, see it everywhere—the dawn of something better than we have ever known?”
He began walking up and down the room, as if his restless heart could not brook his body to stand still.
“What are you going to do with your life?” he asked abruptly.
It was Carola’s demand, as Luc instantly remembered with a sense of pain.
“I wish to fulfil myself,” he answered. “I can do that by serving France. I am in Paris now, waiting my chance.”
M. de Voltaire paused before the high white marble chimneypiece.
“In what way are you hoping to serve France?” he asked sharply.
Luc answered with a grave enthusiasm—