little of this old art, par Dieu! we could soon hire the hotel! Well,
well; perhaps we may survive my cousin Jean Bellanger!"

Three days afterwards, Lucretia stood by her husband's side in the secret
chamber. From the hour when she left it, a change was perceptible in her
countenance, which gradually removed from it the character of youth.
Paler the cheek could scarce become, nor more cold the discontented,
restless eye. But it was as if some great care had settled on her brow,
and contracted yet more the stern outline of the lips. Gabriel noted the
alteration, but he did not attempt to win her confidence. He was
occupied rather in considering, first, if it were well for him to sound
deeper into the mystery he suspected; and, secondly, to what extent, and
on what terms, it became his interest to aid the designs in which, by
Dalibard's hints and kindly treatment, he foresaw that he was meant to
participate.

A word now on the rich kinsman of the Dalibards. Jean Bellanger had been
one of those prudent Republicans who had put the Revolution to profit.
By birth a Marseillais, he had settled in Paris, as an epicier, about the
year 1785, and had distinguished himself by the adaptability and finesse
which become those who fish in such troubled waters. He had sided with
Mirabeau, next with Vergniaud and the Girondins. These he forsook in
time for Danton, whose facile corruptibility made him a seductive patron.
He was a large purchaser in the sale of the emigrant property; he
obtained a contract for the supply of the army in the Netherlands; he
abandoned Danton as he had abandoned the Girondins, but without taking
any active part in the after-proceedings of the Jacobins. His next
connection was with Tallien and Barras, and he enriched himself yet more
under the Directory than he had done in the earlier stages of the
Revolution. Under cover of an appearance of bonhomie and good humour, a