I looked at it, and saw that it was a manifesto headed "Sacrilege! Mary Weeps!" "It was thrust into my hand a minute ago," I said.
"To be sure," he answered. "One morning we got up and found the walls white with them. Another day they were flying loose about the streets."
"Do you know," I asked, seeing that he had been supping, and was inclined to talk, "where the Marquis de St. Alais is living?"
"No, Monsieur," he said. "I do not know the gentleman."
"But he is here with his family."
"Who is not here," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. Then in a lower tone, "Is he red, or--or the other thing, Monsieur?"
"Red," I said boldly.
"Ah! Well, there have been two or three gentlemen going to and fro between our M. Froment, and Turin and Montpellier. It is said that our Mayor would have arrested them long ago if he had done his duty. But he is red too, and most of the councillors. And I don't know, for I take no side. Perhaps the gentleman you want is one of these?"
"Very likely," I said. "So M. Froment is here?"
"Monsieur knows him?"