o walk up and down the room, found himself opposite
to the globe marked with little red crosses, and stood contemplating it
for a moment with a pensive air.

Rodin continued: "In consequence of the state of the public mind in
certain parts of Italy, where sundry agitators have turned their eyes in
the direction of France, Father Arsenio writes from Milan, that it would
be of importance to distribute profusely in that country, some little
book, in which the French would be represented as impious and debauched,
rapacious and bloody."

"The idea is excellent. We might turn to good account the excesses
committed by our troops in Italy during the wars of the Republic. You
must employ Jacques Dumoulin to write it. He is full of gall, spite, and
venom: the pamphlet will be scorching. Besides, I may furnish a few
notes; but you must not pay Dumoulin till after delivery of the
manuscript."

"That is well understood: for, if we were to pay him beforehand, he would
be drunk for a week in some low den. It was thus we had to pay him twice
over for his virulent attack on the pantheistic tendencies of Professor
Martin's philosophy."

"Take note of it--and go on!"

"The merchant announces that the clerk is about to send the banker to
give in his accounts. You understand?' added Rodin, after pronouncing
these words with a marked emphasis.

"Perfectly," said the other, with a start; "they are but the expressions
agreed on. What next?"

"But the clerk," continued the secretary, "is restrained by a last
scruple."

After a moment's silence, during which the features of Rodin's master
worked strongly, he thus resumed: "They must continue to act on the
clerk's mind by silence and solitude; then, let him read once more the
list of cases in which regicide is authorized and absolved. Go on!"

"The woman Sydney writes from Dresden, that she waits for instructions.
Violent scenes of jealousy on her account have again taken place between
the father and son; but neither from these new bursts of mutual hatred,
nor from the confidential communications which each has made to her
against his rival, has she yet been able to glean the information
required. Hitherto, she has avoided giving the preference to one or the
other; but, should this situation be prolonged, she fears it may rouse
their suspicion. Which ought she then to choose--the father or the son?"

"The son--for jealous resentment will be much more violent and cruel in
the old man,