reminded him of the devotion that had inspired the poet who had celebrated the traditions of French soil and the glories of the race.... "In this hour of trial," he implored, "stand by us."
"I have never been closer to you than now," answered Clerambault, and he added:
"You say that people blame what I have written. Dear boy, what do you think of it yourself?"
"I confess I have not read it," said Daniel. "I did not want to, for fear that it might disturb my affection for you, or hinder me in my duty."
"Your faith cannot be very strong, if a few lines of print can shake it."
"My convictions are firm enough," said Daniel, a little miffed, "but there are certain things which it is wisest not to discuss."
"That is something that I should not have expected to hear from a scientific man," said Clerambault. "The truth can lose nothing by discussion."
"Truth, no, but love--love of country."
"My dear Daniel, you go farther than I. I do not place truth in opposition to love of country, on the contrary I endeavour to reconcile them."
Daniel tried to cut the matter short.
"The country is not a subject for discussion."
"Is it an article of faith?"
"You know I do not believe in religions," protested Daniel. "I have no faith in any of them. But that is the very reason. What should we have left on earth if it were not for our country?"
"I think that there are many great and beautiful things in the world, and Country is only one of them; but I am not discussing the love, but the way of loving."
"There is only one," said Daniel.
"And what is that?"
