d leave to make a statement.

"Monsieur le maire," he said, "has, since yesterday, been attacked by--"

"Ha! ha!" derisive laughter on the part of the electors.

Colonel Giguet rang his bell repeatedly, without being able to enforce
silence. At the first lull Maitre Pigoult resumed,--

"I have the honor to inform you, gentlemen, that, attacked by an
indisposition which, not serious in itself--"

Fresh interruption, noisier than the first.

Like all military men, Colonel Giguet is not patient nor parliamentary;
he therefore rose and called out vehemently,--

"Messieurs, we are not at a circus. I request you to behave in a more
seemly manner; if not, I leave the chair."

It is to be supposed that men in masses like to be handled roughly;
for this lesson was greeted with merry applause, after which silence
appeared to be firmly re-established.

"I regret to inform you," began Maitre Achille Pigoult, varying his
formula for the third time, "that, attacked by an indisposition happily
not serious, which may confine him to his chamber--"

"Throat trouble," suggested a voice.

"--our venerable and excellent mayor," continued Achille Pigoult, taking
no notice of the interruption, "is unable to be present at this meeting.
Madame Beauvisage, with whom I have just had the honor of an interview,
requests me to inform you that, _for the present_, Monsieur Beauvisage
renounces the honor of receiving your suffrages, and requests those of
you who have given him your intelligent sympathy to transfer your votes
to Monsieur Simon Giguet."

This Achille Pigoult is a malicious fellow, who intentionally brought in
the name of Madame Beauvisage to exhibit her conjugal sovereignty. But
the assembly was really too provincial to catch the meaning of that
little bit of treachery. Besides, in the provinces, women take part in
the most virile affairs of the men. The well-known saying of the vicar's
old housekeeper, "We don't say masses at that price," would pass without
comment in Champagne.

At last came Sallenauve. I was struck with the ease and quiet dignity
of his manner. That is a very reassuring pledge, madame, of his conduct
under more trying circumstances; for when a man rises to speak it makes
but little difference who and what his audience are. To an orator goaded
by fear, great lords and porters are precisely the same thing. They are
eyes that look at you, ears that hear you. Individuals are not there,
only one huge being,-