something to him about his aspirations.

'Lucien is hot-headed, and easily carried away,' said she. 'My father
has seen a great deal of him lately. They sit for hours in his room,
and Lucien will say nothing of what passes between them. I fear that
there is something going forward which may lead to evil. Lucien is a
student rather than a man of the world, but he has strong opinions about
politics.'

I was at my wit's ends what to do, whether to be silent, or to tell her
of the terrible position in which her lover was placed; but, even as I
hesitated, she, with the quick intuition of a woman, read the doubts
which were in my mind.

'You know something of him,' she cried. 'I understood that he had gone
to Paris. For God's sake tell me what you know about him!'

'His name is Lesage?'

'Yes, yes. Lucien Lesage.'

'I have--I have seen him,' I stammered.

'You have seen him! And you only arrived in France last night.
Where did you see him? What has happened to him?' She gripped me by the
wrist in her anxiety.

It was cruel to tell her, and yet it seemed more cruel still to keep
silent. I looked round in my bewilderment, and there was my uncle
himself coming along over the close-cropped green lawn. By his side,