Try to get alone with your uncle. If, in spite of all your
genius, you can't manage it, that in itself will throw some light
upon their scheme. But if you do get a moment alone with him, out
of ear-shot, damn it, you must pull the wool from his eyes as to the
situation those two have put him in, and plead your mother's cause."

CHAPTER XII

At four o'clock, Joseph crossed the open space which separated the
Rouget house from the Hochon house,--a sort of avenue of weakly lindens,
two hundred feet long and of the same width as the rue Grande Narette.
When the nephew arrived, Kouski, in polished boots, black cloth
trousers, white waistcoat, and black coat, announced him. The table was
set in the large hall, and Joseph, who easily distinguished his uncle,
went up to him, kissed him, and bowed to Flore and Max.

"We have not seen each other since I came into the world, my dear
uncle," said the painter gayly; "but better late than never."

"You are very welcome, my friend," said the old man, looking at his
nephew in a dull way.

"Madame," Joseph said to Flore with an artist's vivacity, "this morning
I was envying my uncle the pleasure he enjoys in being able to admire
you every day."

"Isn't she beautiful?" said the old man, whose dim eyes began to shine.

"Beautiful enough to be the model of a great painter."

"Nephew," said Rouget, whose elbow Flore was nudging, "this is Monsieur
Maxence Gilet; a man who served the Emperor, like your brother, in the
Imperial Guard."

Joseph rose, and bowed.

"Your brother was in the dragoons, I believe," said Maxence. "I was only
a dust-trotter."

"On foot or on horseback," said Flore, "you both of you risked your
skins."

Joseph took note of Max quite as much as Max took note of Joseph. Max,
who got his clothes from Paris, was dressed as the young dandies of that
day dressed themselves. A pair of light-blue cloth trousers, made with
very full plaits, covered his feet so that only the toes and the spurs
of his boots were seen. His waist was pinched in by a white waistcoat
with chased gold buttons, which was laced behind to serve as a belt.
The waistcoat, buttoned to the throat, showed off his broad chest, and
a black satin stock obliged him to hold his head high, in soldierly
fashion. A handsome gold chain hung from a waistcoat pocket, in which
the outline of a flat watch was barely seen. He was twisting a watch-key
of the kind called a "criquet," which Breguet had latel