ntent to defraud. As for you,
you have come back in misfortune, but you are a genius."--(Lucien turned
about as if the incense were burned too close to his face.)--"Yes, my
dear fellow, a _genius_. I have read your _Archer of Charles IX._; it
is more than a romance, it is literature. Only two living men could have
written the preface--Chateaubriand and Lucien."

Lucien accepted that d'Arthez had written the preface. Ninety-nine
writers out of a hundred would have done the same.

"Well, nobody here seemed to have heard of you!" Petit-Claud continued,
with apparent indignation. "When I saw the general indifference, I made
up my mind to change all that. I wrote that article in the paper----"

"What? did you write it?" exclaimed Lucien.

"I myself. Angouleme and L'Houmeau were stirred to rivalry; I arranged
for a meeting of your old schoolfellows, and got up yesterday's
serenade; and when once the enthusiasm began to grow, we started a
committee for the dinner. 'If David is in hiding,' said I to myself,
'Lucien shall be crowned at any rate.' And I have done even better than
that," continued Petit-Claud; "I have seen the Comtesse du Chatelet and
made her understand that she owes it to herself to extricate David from
his position; she can do it, and she ought to do it. If David had really
discovered the secret of which he spoke to me, the Government ought to
lend him a hand, it would not ruin the Government; and think what a fine
thing for a prefect to have half the credit of the great invention
for the well-timed help. It would set people talking about him as an
enlightened administrator.--Your sister has taken fright at our musketry
practice; she was scared of the smoke. A battle in the law-courts costs
quite as much as a battle on the field; but David has held his ground,
he has his secret. They cannot stop him, and they will not pull him up
now."

"Thanks, my dear fellow; I see that I can take you into my confidence;
you shall help me to carry out my plan."

Petit-Claud looked at Lucien, and his gimlet face was a point of
interrogation.

"I intend to rescue Sechard," Lucien said, with a certain importance. "I
brought his misfortunes upon him; I mean to make full reparation. . . .
I have more influence over Louise----"

"Who is Louise?"

"The Comtesse du Chatelet!"

Petit-Claud started.

"I have more influence over her than she herself suspects," said Lucien;
"only, my dear fellow, if I can do something with