aid Leon.

"Ah, you! you are my client, and that will save you; for genius is an
odious privilege, to which too much is accorded in France; we shall be
forced to annihilate some of our greatest men in order to teach others
to be simple citizens."

The corn-cutter spoke with a semi-serious, semi-jesting air that made
Gazonal shudder.

"So," he said, "there's to be no more religion?"

"No more religion _of the State_," replied the pedicure, emphasizing the
last words; "every man will have his own. It is very fortunate that the
government is just now endowing convents; they'll provide our funds.
Everything, you see, conspires in our favour. Those who pity the
peoples, who clamor on behalf of proletaries, who write works against
the Jesuits, who busy themselves about the amelioration of no matter
what,--the communists, the humanitarians, the philanthropists, you
understand,--all these people are our advanced guard. While we are
storing gunpowder, they are making the tinder which the spark of a
single circumstance will ignite."

"But what do you expect will make the happiness of France?" cried
Gazonal.

"Equality of citizens and cheapness of provisions. We mean that there
will be no persons lacking anything, no millionaires, no suckers of
blood and victims."

"That's it!--maximum and minimum," said Gazonal.

"You've said it," replied the corn-cutter, decisively.

"No more manufacturers?" asked Gazonal.

"The state will manufacture. We shall all be the usufructuaries of
France; each will have his ration as on board ship; and all the world
will work according to their capacity."

"Ah!" said Gazonal, "and while awaiting the time when you can cut off
the heads of aristocrats--"

"I cut their nails," said the radical republican, putting up his tools
and finishing the jest himself.

Then he bowed very politely and went away.

"Can this be possible in 1845?" cried Gazonal.

"If there were time we could show you," said his cousin, "all the
personages of 1793, and you could talk with them. You have just seen
Marat; well! we know Fouquier-Tinville, Collot d'Herbois, Robespierre,
Chabot, Fouche, Barras; there is even a magnificent Madame Roland."

"Well, the tragic is not lacking in your play," said Gazonal.

"It is six o'clock. Before we take you to see Odry in 'Les
Saltimbauques' to-night," said Leon to Gazonal, "we must go and pay
a visit to Madame Cadine,--an actress whom your committee-man Massol
cultivates,