from the latter, handed him a letter, which Malletort retained unopened in his hand.
Sensations of excitement, and even apprehension, now obviously pervaded the assembly. Rumours had as usual mysteriously flown ahead of the real intelligence they were about to learn, and men looked in each other's faces, for the encouragement they desired, in vain.
"Gentlemen," said the Abbé, taking his place at the table, and motioning the others to be seated, whilst he remained standing, "if I fail to express myself as clearly as I should wish, I pray you attribute my shortcomings to a foreign idiom, and an ignorance of your expressive language, rather than to any doubt or hesitation existing in my own mind as to our line of conduct in the present crisis. I will not conceal from you—why should I conceal from you—nay, how can I conceal from you, that the moment of action has now arrived. I look around me, and I see on every countenance but one expression, a noble and courageous anxiety to begin."
Murmurs of applause went through the apartment, while two or three voices exclaimed, "Hear! hear!" "Well said!" "Go on!"
"Yes, gentlemen," resumed the Abbé, "the moment has at last arrived, the pear is ripe, and has dropped off the wall from its own weight. The first shot, so to speak, has been fired by the enemy. It is the signal for attack. Gentlemen, I have advices here, informing me that the Bishop of Rochester has been arrested, and is now imprisoned in the Tower."
His listeners rose to a man, some even seizing their hats, and drawing the buckles of their sword-belts, as if under an irresistible impulse to be off. One by one, however, they sat down again, with the same wistful and even ludicrous expression of shame on the countenance of each, like a pack of foxhounds that have been running hare.
The reaction did not escape Malletort, who was now in his element.
"I should have been unworthy of your confidence, gentlemen," he proceeded, with something of triumph in his tone, "had such a blow as this fallen and found me
