cials, who had crossed the open square and were close to
the Mulet inn, now saw Poupart leaving the house of Madame Marion and
coming towards them. A moment later, and the _porte cochere_ of that
house vomited the sixty-seven conspirators.

"So you went to that meeting?" said Antonin Goulard to Poupart.

"I shall never go again, monsieur le sous-prefet," said the innkeeper.
"The son of Monsieur Keller is dead, and I have now no object in going
there. God has taken upon himself to clear the ground."

"Well, Pigoult, what happened?" cried Olivier Vinet, catching sight of
the young notary.

"Oh!" said Pigoult, on whose forehead the perspiration, which had not
dried, bore testimony to his efforts, "Simon has just told some
news that made them all unanimous. Except five persons,--Poupart, my
grandfather, Mollot, Sinot, and I,--all present swore, as at the Jeu de
Paume, to employ every means to promote the triumph of Simon Giguet,
of whom I have made a mortal enemy. Oh! we got warm, I can tell you!
However, I led the Giguets to fulminate against the Gondrevilles. That
puts the old count on my side. No later than to-morrow he will hear
what the _soi-disant_ patriots of Arcis have said about him and his
corruptions and his infamies, to free their necks, as they called it, of
his yoke."

"Unanimous, were they?" said Olivier Vinet, laughing.

"Unanimous, _to-day_," remarked Monsieur Martener.

"Oh!" exclaimed Pigoult, "the general sentiment of the electors is for
one of their own townsmen. Whom can you oppose to Simon Giguet,--a man
who has just spent two hours in explaining the word _progress_."

"Take old Grevin!" cried the sub-prefect.

"He has no such ambition," replied Pigoult. "But we must first of
all consult the Comte de Gondreville. Look, look!" he added; "see
the attentions with which Simon is taking him that gilded booby,
Beauvisage."

And he pointed to the candidate, who was holding the mayor by the arm
and whispering in his ear. Beauvisage meantime was bowing right and
left to the inhabitants, who gazed at him with the deference which
provincials always testify to the richest man in their locality.

"But there's no use cajoling _him_," continued Pigoult. "Cecile's hand
does not depend on either her father or her mother."

"On whom, then?"

"On my old patron, Monsieur Grevin. Even if Simon is elected deputy, the
town is not won."

Though the sub-prefect and Frederic Marest tried to get an explanation