ssoudun, these young gentlemen went to while
away the time at the cafe Militaire. In every provincial town there is a
military cafe. That of Issoudun, built on the place d'Armes at an angle
of the rampart, and kept by the widow of an officer, was naturally the
rendezvous of the Bonapartists, chiefly officers on half-pay, and others
who shared Max's opinions, to whom the politics of the town allowed free
expression of their idolatry for the Emperor. Every year, dating from
1816, a banquet was given in Issoudun to commemorate the anniversary
of his coronation. The three royalists who first entered asked for the
newspapers, among others, for the "Quotidienne" and the "Drapeau Blanc."
The politics of Issoudun, especially those of the cafe Militaire, did
not allow of such royalist journals. The establishment had none but the
"Commerce,"--a name which the "Constitutionel" was compelled to adopt
for several years after it was suppressed by the government. But as, in
its first issue under the new name, the leading article began with these
words, "Commerce is essentially constitutional," people continued to
call it the "Constitutionel," the subscribers all understanding the sly
play of words which begged them to pay no attention to the label, as the
wine would be the same.

The fat landlady replied from her seat at the desk that she did not take
those papers. "What papers do you take then?" asked one of the officers,
a captain. The waiter, a little fellow in a blue cloth jacket, with an
apron of coarse linen tied over it, brought the "Commerce."

"Is that your paper? Have you no other?"

"No," said the waiter, "that's the only one."

The captain tore it up, flung the pieces on the floor, and spat upon
them, calling out,--

"Bring dominos!"

In ten minutes the news of the insult offered to the Constitution
Opposition and the Liberal party, in the supersacred person of its
revered journal, which attacked priests with courage and the wit we
all remember, spread throughout the town and into the houses like light
itself; it was told and repeated from place to place. One phrase was on
everybody's lips,--

"Let us tell Max!"

Max soon heard of it. The royalist officers were still at their game of
dominos when that hero entered the cafe, accompanied by Major Potel and
Captain Renard, and followed by at least thirty young men, curious to
see the end of the affair, most of whom remained outside in the street.
The room was soon f