ry!" And this, they noticed, disturbed
the little viscount, who no doubt heard in it menace and defiance, and
perhaps some odious recollection of the great Revolution.

On the morning of the fifth of September, in uniform, his revolver on
the table, the doctor gave consultation to an old peasant couple. The
husband had suffered with a varicose vein for seven years, but had
waited until his wife had one too, so that they might go and hunt up a
physician together, guided by the postman when he should come with the
newspaper.

Dr. Massarel opened the door, grew pale, straightened himself abruptly
and, raising his arms to heaven in a gesture of exaltation, cried out
with all his might, in the face of the amazed rustics:

"Long live the Republic! Long live the Republic! Long live the
Republic!"

Then he dropped into his armchair weak with emotion.

When the peasant explained that this sickness commenced with a feeling
as if ants were running up and down in his legs, the doctor exclaimed:
"Hold your peace. I have spent too much time with you stupid people.
The Republic is proclaimed! The Emperor is a prisoner! France is saved!
Long live the Republic!" And, running to the door, he bellowed:
"Celeste! Quick! Celeste!"

The frightened maid hastened in. He stuttered, so rapidly did he try to
speak: "My boots, my saber--my cartridge box--and--the Spanish dagger,
which is on my night table. Hurry now!"

The obstinate peasant, taking advantage of the moment's silence, began
again: "This seemed like some cysts that hurt me when I walked."

The exasperated physician shouted: "Hold your peace! For Heaven's sake!
If you had washed your feet oftener, it would not have happened." Then,
seizing him by the neck, he hissed in his face: "Can you not comprehend
that we are living in a Republic, stupid?"

But professional sentiment calmed him suddenly, and he let the
astonished old couple out of the house, repeating all the time:

"Return to-morrow, return to-morrow, my friends; I have no more time
to-day."

While equipping himself from head to foot, he gave another series of
urgent orders to the maid:

"Run to Lieutenant Picard's and to Sub-lieutenant Pommel's and say to
them that I want them here immediately. Send Torcheboeuf to me, too,
with his drum. Quick, now! Quick!" And when Celeste was gone, he
collected his thoughts and prepared to surmount the difficulties of the
situation.

The three men arrived together. They were