He ran on at great speed detailing the events that had taken place, and finally came to the matter which had, he announced, been causing him to hunt for Andre-Louis until he had all but despaired of finding him.

Nantes was sending fifty delegates to the assembly of Rennes which was to select the deputies to the Third Estate and edit their cahier of grievances.  Rennes itself was being as fully represented, whilst such villages as Gavrillac were sending two delegates for every two hundred hearths or less.  Each of these three had clamoured that Andre-Louis Moreau should be one of its delegates.  Gavrillac wanted him because he belonged to the village, and it was known there what sacrifices he had made in the popular cause; Rennes wanted him because it had heard his spirited address on the day of the shooting of the students; and Nantes — to whom his identity was unknown — asked for him as the speaker who had addressed them under the name of Omnes Omnibus and who had framed for them the memorial that was believed so largely to have influenced M. Necker in formulating the terms of the convocation.

Since he could not be found, the delegations had been made up without him.  But now it happened that one or two vacancies had occurred in the Nantes representation; and it was the business of filling these vacancies that had brought Le Chapelier to Nantes.

Andre-Louis firmly shook his head in answer to Le Chapelier’s proposal.

“You refuse?” the other cried.  “Are you mad?  Refuse, when you are demanded from so many sides?  Do you realize that it is more than probable you will be elected one of the deputies, that you will be sent to the States General at Versailles to represent us in this work of saving France?”

But Andre-Louis, we know, was not concerned to save France.  At the moment he was concerned to save two women, both of whom he loved, though in vastly different ways, from a man he had vowed to ruin.  He stood firm in his refusal until Le Chapelier dejectedly abandoned the attempt to persuade him.

“It is odd,” said Andre-Louis, “that I should have been so deeply immersed in trifles as never to have perceived that Nantes is being politically active.”

“Active!  My friend, it is a seething cauldron of political emotions.  It is kept quiet on the surface only by the persuasion that all goes well.  At a hint to the contrary it would boil over.”

“Would it so?” said Scaramouche, thoughtfully.  “The knowledge may be useful.”  And then he changed the subject.  “You know that La Tour d’Azyr is here?”

“In Nantes?  He has courage if he shows himself.  They are not a docile people, these Nantais, and they know his record and the part he played in the rising at Rennes.  I marvel they haven’t stoned him.  But they will, sooner or later.  It only needs that some one should suggest it.”

“That is very likely,” said Andre-Louis, and smiled.  “He doesn’t show himself much; not in the streets, at least.  So that he has not the courage you suppose; nor any kind of courage, as I told him once.  He has only insolence.”