I thought I overheard words which showed sympathy for poor George, the brave Chouan.
I followed you; for I thought I was following friends." The man smiled as he fixed his steady eye upon the unflinching child.
"My poor lad," he said gently, "I believe you,--pardon me; but follow us no more,--we are dangerous!" He waved his hand, and strode away and rejoined his companion, and Gabriel reluctantly abandoned the pursuit and went homeward.

It was long before he reached his father's house, for he had strayed into a strange quarter of Paris, and had frequently to inquire the way.

At length he reached home, and ascended the stairs to a small room in which Lucretia usually sat, and which was divided by a narrow corridor from the sleeping-chamber of herself and Dalibard.

His stepmother, leaning her cheek upon her hand, was seated by the window, so absorbed in some gloomy thoughts, which cast over her rigid face a shade, intense and solemn as despair, that she did not perceive the approach of the boy till he threw his arms round her neck, and then she started as in alarm.
"You! only you," she said, with a constrained smile; "see, my nerves are not so strong as they were." "You are disturbed, belle-mere,--has he been vexing you ?" "He--Dalibard?
No, indeed; we were only this morning discussing matters of business." "Business,--that means money." "Truly," said Lucretia, "money does make the staple of life's business.
In spite of his new appointment, your father needs some sums in hand,--favours are to be bought, opportunities for speculation occur, and--" "And my father," interrupted Gabriel, "wishes your consent to raise the rest of your portion ?" Lucretia looked surprised, but answered quietly: "He had my consent long since; but the trustees to the marriage-settlement--mere men of business, my uncle's bankers; for I had lost all claim on my kindred--refuse, or at least interpose such difficulties as amount to refusal." "But that reply came some days since," said Gabriel, musingly.
"How did you know,--did your father tell you ?" "Poor belle-mere!" said Gabriel, almost with pity; "can you live in this house and not watch all that passes,--every stranger, every message, every letter?
But what, then, does he wish with you ?" "He has suggested my returning to England and seeing the trustees myself.

His interest can obtain my passport." "And you have refused ?" "I have not consented." "Consent!--hush!--your maid; Marie is not waiting without;" and Gabriel rose and looked forth.