"I should not overlook them if I had my way," cried the Count d'Arlincourt. "I should lock them safely up in the Bastille."
"Oh!" cried the ladies in one breath; "barbarian!"
"These men are doubtless responsible for the inflamed state of the public mind," said St. Hilaire, again taking up the conversation.
"Of course they are," agreed the count.
"And so are Calonne and Brienne," continued the marquis. "They mismanaged affairs during their terms of office."
Here the philosopher smiled an assent.
"But the blame rests more heavily upon other shoulders than those of scribbling writers or corrupt officials," and the marquis paused to look around the table.
"I am all attention," cried the Countess d'Arlincourt, prepared for something amusing. "Upon whom does it rest?"
"Upon the nobility themselves," answered St. Hilaire.
For a moment there was silence; then came a storm of protests from all sides, only the chevalier and the philosopher making no audible reply, although the latter said to himself:—