'I'll have no stories. What is the news?'
'The news is for Gabrielle, not for you.'
'My faith! and are not Gabrielle and I one? Do not I enter passionately into her projects? Do I not see clearly that if she succeeds, or even if she fails, her self-devotion, her enthusiasm, which are charming, will make her fortune and mine? Does she not repose her confidence in me? Does she not make an oratory of my bosom, and find a sanctuary in my heart?'
'My good wife and my good Gabrielle, understand now,' said the corporal, in his broken French. 'I took the casket back to the Sieur Réveillon. He is in the Bastille. He fears the people, so he has procured for himself a lettre de cachet confining him within the walls of that fortress, which are quite strong enough to protect him from the mob. And he is comfortable there, being great friends with M. de Launay, the governor. Now that casket contained the jewels of Madame Réveillon.'
'Mon Dieu! you do not say so!' cried Madame Deschwanden, despairingly. 'The jewels! And they might have been mine.'
'They not only might, but would have brought you to the wheel, liebe Frau. Search was being made for them, as their value was very great. How should you like to be broken on the wheel for robbery?'
'But, if it were not for the pain, it would be interesting,' said madame.
'There is the pain, however, and that is terrible.'
'Yes; but the jewels—were they very beautiful?'