ospective change, Jean-Marie--it may probably have
shocked you. Tell me now, did it not strike you as an inconsistency?
Confess--it is useless to dissemble--it pained you?'

'Yes,' said the boy.

'You see,' returned the Doctor, with sublime fatuity, 'I read your
thoughts! Nor am I surprised--your education is not yet complete; the
higher duties of men have not been yet presented to you fully. A
hint--till we have leisure--must suffice. Now that I am once more in
possession of a modest competence; now that I have so long prepared
myself in silent meditation, it becomes my superior duty to proceed to
Paris. My scientific training, my undoubted command of language, mark me
out for the service of my country. Modesty in such a case would be a
snare. If sin were a philosophical expression, I should call it sinful.
A man must not deny his manifest abilities, for that is to evade his
obligations. I must be up and doing; I must be no skulker in life's
battle.'

So he rattled on, copiously greasing the joint of his inconsistency with
words; while the boy listened silently, his eyes fixed on the horse, his
mind seething. It was all lost eloquence; no array of words could
unsettle a belief of Jean-Marie's; and he drove into Fontainebleau filled
with pity, horror, indignation, and despair.

In the town Jean-Marie was kept a fixture on the driving-seat, to guard
the treasure; while the Doctor, with a singular, slightly tipsy airiness
of manner, fluttered in and out of cafes, where he shook hands with
garrison officers, and mixed an absinthe with the nicety of old
experience; in and out of shops, from which he returned laden with costly
fruits, real turtle, a magnificent piece of silk for his wife, a
preposterous cane for himself, and a kepi of the newest fashion for the
boy; in and out of the telegraph office, whence he despatched his
telegram, and where three hours later he received an answer promising a
visit on the morrow; and generally pervaded Fontainebleau with the first
fine aroma of his divine good humour.

The sun was very low when they set forth again; the shadows of the forest
trees extended across the broad white road that led them home; the
penetrating odour of the evening wood had already arisen, like a cloud of
incense, from that broad field of tree-tops; and even in the streets of
the town, where the air had been baked all day between white walls, it
came in whiffs and pulses, like a distant music. Half