'When was M. Berthier here last?' asked madame.
'On Sunday, he has not returned since; and indeed,' he added, with some hesitation, 'I fear that it would hardly be safe for him to show himself in Paris at present. You will excuse me, madame, for hinting this.'
'Why not safe?' asked the poor woman; 'do others hate him as much as I do?'
'I fear that monsieur is not popular with the Parisians. They are flushed with victory, and incensed against my master. The mob has already assembled once or twice before the house, but I have assured them that he is at Versailles, and they have retired. But their attitude was threatening. I only wish I had had a few soldiers here, and we should have bayoneted them all the way up the street, and fed the dogs for weeks afterwards on their carcases. Ah, ha! Pigeon, Poulet! how you would have danced to taste man-meat, to lick up human blood! You would want some taking down afterwards to bring you to proper obedience! Sapristi! that you would!'
'Madame,' said Gabrielle, 'if Monsieur Berthier is unlikely to return here, let me remain with you for a few days.'
'Are you sure he will not venture here?' asked the lady of Gustave.
'See, my good mistress,' replied the man, drawing her into his lodge, and leading her to the window; 'will you do me the favour of looking out, and turning your head a little to the left?'
'Well,' answered she, when she had complied with his request; 'I see nothing remarkable.'
'No, madame; but you see a plaster-cast dealer at the corner?'
'Yes, I do; but what of that?'