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M. Walter asked: "Do you know Algeria, sir?" He replied: "Yes, sir, I was there twenty-eight months." Leaving the subject of colonization, Norbert de Varenne questioned him as to some of the Algerian customs. Georges spoke with animation; excited by the wine and the desire to please, he related anecdotes of the regiment, of Arabian life, and of the war. Mme.
My mind had not failed to conceive a certain suspicion. "Only one, your grace. The rest were servants." "And that one?" "A man in the yard fancied that he recognized M. de la Varenne." "Ah!" I said. My agitation was indeed so great that, before giving reins to it, I bade La Trape withdraw.
But the shrewd Calvaert, who had entertained familiar relations with La Varenne, received from that personage after his return a very different account of his excursion to the Escorial from the one generally circulated. "Coming from Monceaus to Paris in his company," wrote Calvaert in a secret despatch to the States, "I had the whole story from him.
It was men like Collot d'Herbois, Billaud Varenne and Barrère, the bloodiest of the Terrorists, who, to save their own heads, united to cast the odium of the later excesses on Robespierre, and to overthrow him. The Thermidorians had no intention of staying the Terror and the actual consequences of their success were wholly unexpected by them.
Yet Duplessis Mornay avowed that the project was entertained, and that he had it from the very lips of the secret envoy who was to negotiate the marriage. "La Varenne is on his way to Spain," wrote Duplessis to the Duke of Bouillon, "in company with a gentleman of Don Bernardino de Mendoza, who brought the first overtures. He is to bring back the portrait of the Infanta.
Your excellent cousin's conduct in this matter, as in all others, has been full of kindness and dignity." One the eve of M. de la Marche's departure, and after the abbe's letter had been sent, a little incident had happened in Varenne which, when I heard of it in America, caused me considerable surprise and pleasure.
"Norbert de Varenne," said he, "the poet, the author of 'Les Soleils Morts, a very expensive man. Every poem he gives us costs three hundred francs and the longest has not two hundred lines. But let us go into the Napolitain, I am getting thirsty." When they were seated at a table, Forestier ordered two glasses of beer.
"Nothing!" exclaimed Varenne, bitterly, "except that every minute of this day is worth a million francs. Man, do you know?" and in his frenzy he caught De la Chaise by the collar and half shook him out of his usual calm "man, can you not see that Jean L'as has brought revolution into Paris? Oh! This L'as, this devil of a L'as!
"If you should be asked where we sold the group, mention the Duc d'Herouville, the famous collector in the Rue de Varenne." The dealer nodded assent. "And your name?" said Hulot to the artist when he came back. "Count Steinbock." "Have you the papers that prove your identity?" "Yes, Monsieur le Baron. They are in Russian and in German, but not legalized."
And yet, as the coach drew nearer to the Rue de Varenne, where Madame d'Argy had her winter residence, a little calm, a little sense returned to Jacqueline. She did not see how she could dare to enter that house, where probably they cursed her very name. She would wait in the street with the carriage-blinds pulled down, and Modeste should go in and ask for information.
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