This scene has all been
arranged, and you are put forward as ambassador--"
"I, monsieur le marquis!" said the abbe, again interrupting him. "I am
supporting you vigorously, and you will, I hope, do me the justice to
believe that the restoration of our altars in France and that of the
king upon the throne of his fathers are far more powerful incentives
to my humble labors than the bishopric of Rennes which you--"
The abbe dared say no more, for the marquis smiled bitterly at his
last words. However, the young chief instantly repressed all
expression of feeling, his brow grew stern, and he followed the Abbe
Gudin into a hall where the worst of the clamor was echoing.
"I recognize no authority here," Rifoel was saying, casting angry
looks at all about him and laying his hand on the hilt of his sabre.
"Do you recognize that of common-sense?" asked the marquis, coldly.
The young Chevalier de Vissard, better known under his patronymic of
Rifoel, was silent before the general of the Catholic armies.
"What is all this about, gentlemen?" asked the marquis, examining the
faces round him.
"This, monsieur le marquis," said a famous smuggler, with the
awkwardness of a man of the people who long remains under the yoke of
respect to a great lord, though he admits no barriers after he has
once jumped them, and regards the aristocrat as an equal only,
"/this/," he said, "and you have come in the nick of time to hear it.
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