e directorship of the
press tempt him?

"With it, the directing of the press!" said Denis. "It is much better to
have an opposition press than one that you have under your thumb.
Friendly sheets advise only foolishly."

"Why, Vaudrey, do you know," suddenly exclaimed the veteran journalist,
"that you are the first among my friends who have come into power--I say
the first--who has ever thought of me?"

"You cannot do me a greater pleasure than tell me so, my dear Ramel. I
know nothing more contemptible than ingrates. In my opinion, to remember
what one owes to people, is to be scrupulously exact; it is simply
knowing orthography."

"Well! mercy! there are a devilish lot of people who don't know if the
word gratitude is spelled with an _e_ or an _a_. No, people are not so
well skilled as that in orthography. There are not a few good little
creatures to be sent back to school. All the more reason to be thankful
for having learned by heart--by heart, that is the way to put it, my
dear Vaudrey--your participles."

Sulpice was well acquainted with Ramel's singular wit, a little sly, but
tinged with humor, like pure water into which a drop of gin has been
poured, more perfumed than bitter. He knew no man more indulgent and
keen-sighted than him.

"For what should I bear a grudge against people?" said the veteran. "For
their stupidity? I pity them, I haven't time to dislike them; one can't
do everything."

Besides, the minister felt altogether happy to be with this man no
longer in vogue, but who might be likened to coins that have ceased to
be current and have acquired a higher value as commemorative medals. He
could unbosom himself to him: treachery was impossible. He longed to
have such a stay beside him, and still urged him, but Ramel was
inflexible.

"But as I have already said--if I have need of you?"

"Of me? I am too old."

"Of your advice?"

"Well! it is not necessary for me to give you my address, since you find
yourself here now, or to tell you that you can depend on me, seeing you
know me."

Vaudrey felt that it was useless to pursue the matter further. He was
not talking with a misanthrope or a scorner, but with a learned man. He
would find at hand whenever he needed it, the old, ever faithful
devotedness of this white-haired man, who, with skull-cap on his head,
was smoking his pipe near the window when the minister entered.

"Then, you are happy, Ramel?" said Sulpice, a little astonished,
perh