"Next to Gibraltar," said De Barsac, "it is the most powerful fortress in the world, mademoiselle. It garrisons thousands of men; its stores are enormous; it dominates not only Paris, but all France."
"But where are the cannon?" asked Dulcima.
"Ah—exactly—where? That is what other nations pay millions to find out—and cannot. Will you take my word for it that there are one or two cannon there—and permit me to avoid particulars?"
"You might tell me where just one little unimportant cannon is?" said my daughter, with the naïve curiosity which amuses the opposite and still more curious sex.
"And endanger France?" asked De Barsac, with owl-like solemnity.
"Thank you," pouted Dulcima, perfectly aware that he was laughing.
Their voices became low, and relapsed into that buzzing murmur which always defeats its own ends by arousing parental vigilance.
"Let us visit the aquarium," said I in a distinct and disagreeable voice. Doubtless the "voice from the wilderness" was gratuitously unwelcome to Messieurs De Barsac and Torchon de Cluny, but they appeared to welcome the idea with a conciliatory alacrity noticeable in young men when intruded upon by the parent of pretty daughters. Dear me, how fond they appeared to be of me; what delightful information they volunteered concerning the Trocadero, the Alexander Bridge, the Champ de Mars.