Silence up to the moment of explosion. You are the only ones here who
know my name."
"We will carry it to the grave," replied Boisberthelot.
"And for my part, I would not reveal it were I face to face with
death," remarked the old man.
And he entered his stateroom.
The commander and the first officer returned on deck, and began to pace
up and down side by side, talking as they walked. The theme was
evidently their passenger; and this was the substance of the
conversation which the wind wafted through the darkness. Boisberthelot
grumbled half audibly to La Vieuville,--
"It remains to be seen whether or no he is a leader."
La Vieuville replied,--
"Meanwhile he is a prince."
"Almost."
"A nobleman in France, but a prince in Brittany."
"Like the Tremouilles and the Rohans."
"With whom he is connected."
Boisberthelot resumed,--
"In France and in the carriages of the king he is a marquis,--as I am a
count, and you a chevalier."
"The carriages are far away!" exclaimed Vieuville. "We are living in
the time of the tumbril."
A silence ensued.
Boisberthelot went on,--
"For lack of a French prince we take one from Brittany.
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