"Why not if I speak in order that you may be revenged?"
"Then that is another thing—speak of it," said the other, turning pale but smiling at the same time.
Pitou thought no more of eating or drinking, but stared at their new acquaintance as at a wizard.
"But what do you understand by revenge?" went on he with a smile: "tell me. In a paltry manner, by killing one individual, as you tried to do?"
Billet blanched like a corpse: Pitou shuddered all over.
"Or by pursuing a whole class?"
"By hunting down a whole caste," said Billet, "for of such are the crimes of all his like. When I mourned before my friend Dr. Gilbert, he said: 'Poor Billet, what has befallen you has already happened to a hundred thousand fathers; what would the young noblemen have in the way of pastime if they did not steal away the poor man's daughter, and the old ones steal away the King's money?'"
"Oh, Gilbert said that, did he?"
"Do you know him?"
"I know all men," replied the stranger, smiling: "as I know you two, and Viscount Charny, Isidore, Lord of Boursonnes; as I know Catherine, the prettiest girl of the county."
"I bade you not speak her name, for she is no more—she is dead."
"Why, no, Father Billet," broke in Pitou, "for she——"
He was no doubt going to say that he saw her daily, but the farmer repeated in a voice admitting of no reply,
"She is dead."
Pitou hung his head for he understood.
"Ha, ha," said the stranger: "if I were my friend Diogenes, I should put out my lantern, for I believe I have found an honest man." Rising, he offered his arms to Billet, saying: "Brother, come and take a stroll with me, while this good fellow finishes the eatables."
"Willingly," returned Billet, "for I begin to understand to what feast you invite me. Wait for me here," he added to his friend; "I shall return."
The stranger seemed to know the gastronomical taste of Pitou for he sent by the waiter some more delicacies, which he was still discussing, while wondering, when Billet reappeared. His brow was illumined with something like pleasure.
"Anything new, Father Billet?" asked the captain.
"Only that you will start for home to-morrow while I remain."
This is what Billet remained for.
A week after, he might have been seen, in the dress of a well-to-do farmer, in Plastriere Street. Two thirds up the thoroughfare was blocked by a crowd around a ballad singer with a fiddler to accompany him, who was singing a lampoon at the characters of the day.
Billet paused only an instant to listen to the strain, in which, from the Assembly being on the site of the old Horse-training ground, the attributes of horses were given to the members, as "the Roarer," to Mirabeau, etc.
Slipping in at an alleyway at the back of the throng, he came to a low doorway, over which was scrawled in red chalk—symbols effaced each time of usage:
"L. P. D."
This was the way down into a subterranean passage. Billet could not read but he may have understood that these letters were a token, He took the underground road with boldness.
At its end a pale light glimmered, by which a seated man was reading or pretending to read a newspaper, as is the custom of the Paris janitor of an evening.
At the sound of steps he got up and with a finger touching his breast waited. Billet presented his forefinger bent and laid it like the ring of a padlock on his lips. This was probably the sign of recognition expected by the door-guard, for he opened a door on his right which was wholly invisible when shut, and pointed out to the adventurer a narrow and steep flight of steps going down into the earth.
When Billet entered, the door shut behind him swiftly and silently. He counted seventeen steps, and though he was not talkative could not help saying: "Good, I am going right."
Before a door floated tapestry: he went straight to it, lifted it and was within a large circular hall where some fifty persons were gathered. The walls were hung with red and white cloth, on which were traced the Square, the Compass and the Level. A single lamp, hung from the center of the ceiling, cast a wan light insufficient to define those who preferred to stand out of its direct beams.
A rostrum up which four steps led, awaited orators or new members, and on this platform, next the wall, a desk and chair stood for the chairman.
In a few minutes the hall filled so that there was no moving about. The men were of all conditions and sorts from the peasant to the prince, arriving like Billet solitarily, and standing wherever they liked, without knowing or being known to each other. Each wore under his overcoat the masonic apron if only a mason, or the scarf of the Illuminati, if affiliated to the Grand Mystery. Only three restricted themselves to the masonic apron.
One was Billet; another a young man, and the third a man of forty-two who appeared by his bearing to belong to the highest upper class.
Some seconds after he had arrived, though no more noticed than the meanest, a second panel opened and the chairman appeared, wearing the insignia of the Grand Orient and the Grand Copt.
Billet uttered faintly his astonishment, for the Master was the man who had accosted him at the Bastile.
He mounted the dais and turning to the assembly, said:
"Brothers, we have two pieces of business to do this day: I have to receive three new candidates; and I have to render account of how the Work has gone on: for as it grows harder and harder, it is meet that you should know if I am ever worthy of your trust and that I should know if I still deserve it. It is only by receiving light from you and imparting it that I can walk in the dark way. Let the chiefs alone stay in the lodge to receive or reject the applicants. They dealt with, all are to return into session, from the first to the last, for it is in the presence of all and not only within the Supreme Circle, I wish to lay bare my conduct and receive censure or ask for recompense."
At these words a door flew open opposite that he had come in by; vast vaulted depths were beheld, as the crypt of an ancient basilica.
The arcades were feebly lighted by brass lamps hung so as to make darkness visible.
Only three remained, the novices. Chance fixed it that they should be standing up by the wall at nearly regular distances. They looked at each other with astonishment, only thus and now learning that they were the heroes of the occasion.
At this instant the door by which the chairman had come, opened to admit six masked men who came to place themselves beside the Master, three on each hand.
"Let Numbers Two and Three disappear for the time," said the Master; "none but the supreme chiefs must know the secrets of the reception or refusal of a would-be mason in the Order of the Illuminated."
The young man and the high-born one retired by the lobby by which they had come, leaving Billet alone.
"Draw nearer," said the chairman. "What is your name among the profane?" he demanded when obeyed.
"François Billet, and it is Strength, among the elect."
"Where did you first see the Light?"
"In the lodge of the Soissons Friends of Truth."
"How old are you?"
"Seven years," replied Billet, making the sign to show what rank he had attained in the order.
"Why do you want to rise a step and be received among us?"
"Because I am told that it is a step nearer the Universal Light."
"Have you supporters?"
"I have