“Indeed, sir, there will be few follies for some days.  Mr. Franklin is dead, and the city goes into mourning.”

“’Tis a fate that all must meet,” said the General; “but death and Franklin would look each other in the face as friends—­He had a work to do, he did it well, and it is finished.  That is all.  What other news do you bring?”

“It is said that Mirabeau is arrested somewhere, for something.  I did not hear the particulars.”

“Probably, for the very least of his crimes.  Marat hates him; and Marat represents the fury of the Revolution.  The monster wished to erect eight hundred gibbets, and hang Mirabeau first.”

“And the deputies are returning to the Provinces, drunk with their own importance.  They have abolished titles, and coats of arms, and liveries; and published a list of the names the nobles are to assume—­as if people did not know their own names.  Mr. Hamilton says ’Revolution in France has gone raving mad, and converted twenty-four millions of people into savages.’”

“I hate the French!” said the General passionately.  “It is a natural instinct with me, just as tame animals are born with an antipathy to wild beasts.  If I thought I had one drop of French blood in me, I would let it out with a dagger.”

George winced a little.  He remembered that the Morans were of French extraction; and he answered—­

“After all, father, we must judge people individually.  Mere race is not much.”

“George Hyde!  What are you saying?  Race is everything.  It is the strongest and deepest of all human feelings.  Nothing conquers its prejudices.”

“Except love.  I have heard, father, that Love never asks ’of what race art thou?’ or even ‘whose son, or daughter, art thou?’”

“You have heard many foolish things, George; that is one of them.  Men and women marry out of their own nationality, at their peril.  I took my life in my hand for your mother’s love.”

“She was worthy of the peril.”

“God knows it.”

At this moment Mrs. Hyde entered the room, her fair face alight with love.  A servant carrying a tray full of good things to eat, followed her; and it was delightful to watch her eager happiness as she arranged meats, and sweetmeats, in tempting order for the hungry young man.  He thoroughly enjoyed this provision for his comfort; and as he ate, he talked to his father of those things interesting to him, answering all questions with that complaisant positiveness of youth which decides everything at once, and without reservation.  No one understood this better than General Hyde, but it pleased him to draw out his son’s opinions; and it also pleased him to watch the pride of the fond mother, who evidently considered her boy a paragon of youthful judgment.

“And pray,” he asked, “what can you tell me about the seat of government?  Will New York be chosen?”