rybody
might see how the old Bohemian who formerly explained the code while
dining on sauerkraut, would appear as supreme chief of the magistracy.

Idiots by the dozen had climbed over his back. Now having become aged
in the ordinary honors of the Senate, unpolished, married to a brewery
girl, poor, lazy, disillusioned, his old Jacobin spirit and his sincere
contempt for the people surviving his ambition, made of him a good man
for the Government. This time, as a part of the Garain combination, he
imagined he held the Department of Justice. And his protector, who would
not give it to him, was an unfortunate rival. He laughed, while moulding
a dog from a piece of bread.

M. Berthier-d'Eyzelles, calm and grave, caressed his handsome white
beard.

"Do you not think, Monsieur Garain, that it would be well to give a
place in the Cabinet to the men who have followed from the beginning the
political principles toward which we are directing ourselves to-day?"

"They lost themselves in doing it," replied Garam, impatiently. "The
politician never should be in advance of circumstances. It is an error
to be in the right too soon. Thinkers are not men of business. And
then--let us talk frankly--if you want a Ministry of the Left Centre
variety, say so: I will retire. But I warn you that neither the Chamber
nor the country will sustain you."

"It is evident," said Count Martin, "that we must be sure of a
majority."

"With my list, we have a majority," said Garain. "It is the minority
which sustained the Ministry against us. Gentlemen, I appeal to your
devotion."

And the laborious distribution of the portfolios began again. Count
Martin received, in the first place, the Public Works, which he refused,
for lack of competency, and afterward the Foreign Affairs, which he
accepted without objection.

But M. Berthier-d'Eyzelles, to whom Garain offered Commerce and
Agriculture, reserved his decision.

Loyer got the Colonies. He seemed very busy trying to make his bread dog
stand on the cloth. Yet he was looking out of the corners of his little
wrinkled eyelids at the Countess Martin and thinking that she was
desirable. He vaguely thought of the pleasure of meeting her again.

Leaving Garain to his combination, he was preoccupied by his fair
hostess, trying to divine her tastes and her habits, asking her
whether she went to the theatre, and if she ever went at night to the
coffee-house with her husband. And Therese was beginnin