“I leave you to imagine how that reply startles and amazes me.  The shopman can answer none of the other questions I put to him; but the next day I am asked to dinner by my employer (who, for his brother’s sake, shows me the utmost civility).  On entering the room, I find his daughter just putting away a lavender-colored silk scarf, on which she has been embroidering in silver what looks to me very like a crest and coat-of-arms.

" ‘I don’t mind your seeing what I am about, Citizen Lomaque,’ says she; ’for I know my father can trust you.  That scarf is sent back to us by the purchaser, an ex-emigrant lady of the old aristocratic school, to have her family coat-of-arms embroidered on it.’

" ’Rather a dangerous commission even in these mercifully democratic times, is it not?’ says I.

" ‘The old lady, you must know,’ says she, ’is as proud as Lucifer; and having got back safely to France in these days of moderate republicanism, thinks she may now indulge with impunity in all her old-fashioned notions.  She has been an excellent customer of ours, so my father thought it best to humor her, without, however, trusting her commission to any of the workroom women to execute.  We are not living under the Reign of Terror now, certainly; still there is nothing like being on the safe side.’

" ‘Nothing,’ I answer.  ‘Pray what is this ex-emigrant’s name?’

" ‘Danville,’ replies the citoyenne Clairfait.  ’She is going to appear in that fine scarf at her son’s marriage.’

" ‘Marriage!’ I exclaim, perfectly thunderstruck.

" ‘Yes,’ says she.  ’What is there so amazing in that?  By all accounts, the son, poor man, deserves to make a lucky marriage this time.  His first wife was taken away from him in the Reign of Terror by the guillotine.’

" ‘Who is he going to marry?’ I inquire, still breathless.

" ’The daughter of General Berthelin—­an ex-aristocrat by family, like the old lady; but by principle as good a republican as ever lived—­a hard-drinking, loud-swearing, big-whiskered old soldier, who snaps his fingers at his ancestors and says we are all descended from Adam, the first genuine sans-culotte in the world.’

“In this way the citoyenne Ciairfait gossips on all dinner-time, but says nothing more of any importance.  I, with my old police-office habits, set to the next day, and try to make some discoveries for myself.  The sum of what I find out is this:  Danville’s mother is staying with General Berthelin’s sister and daughter at Chalons, and Danville himself is expected to arrive every day to escort them all three to Paris, where the marriage-contract is to be signed at the general’s house.  Discovering this, and seeing that prompt action is now of the most vital importance, I undertake, as I told you, my employer’s commission for Paris, depart with all speed, and stop here on my way.  Wait!  I have not done yet.  All the haste I can make is not haste enough to give me a good start of the wedding party.  On my road here, the diligence by which I travel is passed by a carriage, posting along at full speed.  I cannot see inside that carriage; but I look at the box-seat, and recognize on it the old man Dubois.  He whirls by in a cloud of dust, but I am certain of him; and I say to myself what I now say again to you, no time is to be lost!”