Their clothes were shabby,--their aspect certainly
betokened long suffering and contention with want and poverty, but they
were, taken all together, a set of men who, if they had been members of
a recognized parliament or senate, would have presented a fine
collection of capable heads to an observant painter. As soon as they
were gathered round the table under the presidency of Sergius Thord at
one end, and the tranquil tolerance of the mysterious Lotys at the
other, they broke through the silence and reserve which they had
carefully maintained till their three new comrades had been
irrecoverably enrolled among them, and conversation went on briskly.
The topic of 'The King _versus_ the Jesuits' was one of the first
they touched upon, Sergius Thord relating for the benefit of all his
associates, how he had found Pasquin Leroy reading by lamplight the
newspaper which reported his Majesty's refusal to grant any portion of
Crown lands to the priests, and which also spoke of 'Thord's Rabble.'
"Here is the paper!" said Leroy, as he heard the narration; "Whoever
likes to keep it can do so, as a memento of my introduction to this
Society!"
And he tossed it lightly on the table.
"Good!" exclaimed Paul Zouche; "Give it to me, and I will cherish it as
a kind of birthday card! What a rag it is! 'Thord's Rabble' eh!
Sergius, what have you been doing that this little flea of an editor
should jump out of his ink-pot and bite you? Does he hurt much?"
"Hurt!" Thord laughed aloud.
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