king fools of us as
they have been doing all along, telling us that the Prussians were dying
of hunger and disease, that they had not so much as a shirt to their
back, and were tramping along the highways like ragged, filthy paupers!"

Loubet laughed the laugh of the Parisian gamin, who has experienced the
various vicissitudes of life in the Halles.

"Oh, that's all in my eye! it is we fellows who have been catching it
right along; we are the poor devils whose leaky brogans and tattered
toggery would make folks throw us a copper. And then those great
victories about which they made such a fuss! What precious liars they
must be, to tell us that old Bismarck had been made prisoner and that a
German army had been driven over a quarry and dashed to pieces! Oh yes,
they fooled us in great shape."

Pache and Lapoulle, who were standing near, shook their heads and
clenched their fists ominously. There were others, also, who made no
attempt to conceal their anger, for the course of the newspapers in
constantly printing bogus news had had most disastrous results; all
confidence was destroyed, men had ceased to believe anything or anybody.
And so it was that in the soldiers, children of a larger growth, their
bright dreams of other days had now been supplanted by exaggerated
anticipations of misfortune.

"_Pardi_!" continued Chouteau, "the thing is accounted for easily
enough, since our rulers have been selling us to the enemy right from
the beginning. You all know that it is so."

Lapoulle's rustic simplicity revolted at the idea.

"For shame! what wicked people they must be!"

"Yes, sold, as Judas sold his master," murmured Pache, mindful of his
studies in sacred history.

It was Chouteau's hour of triumph. "_Mon Dieu!_ it is as plain as the
nose on your face. MacMahon got three millions and each of the other
generals got a million, as the price of bringing us up here. The bargain
was made at Paris last spring, and last night they sent up a rocket as a
signal to let Bismarck know that everything was fixed and he might come
and take us."

The story was so inanely stupid that Maurice was disgusted. There had
been a time when Chouteau, thanks to his facundity of the faubourg, had
interested and almost convinced him, but now he had come to detest that
apostle of falsehood, that snake in the grass, who calumniated honest
effort of every kind in order to sicken others of it.

"Why do you talk such nonsense?" he exclaimed.