provided that we are allowed to laugh _in petto_
at both kings and peoples, to think one thing in the morning and another
at night, and to lead a merry life _a la_ Panurge, or to recline upon
soft cushions, _more orientali_.

"The sceptre of this burlesque and macaronic kingdom," he went on, "we
have reserved for you; so we are taking you straightway to a dinner
given by the founder of the said newspaper, a retired banker, who, at a
loss to know what to do with his money, is going to buy some brains
with it. You will be welcomed as a brother, we shall hail you as king
of these free lances who will undertake anything; whose perspicacity
discovers the intentions of Austria, England, or Russia before either
Russia, Austria or England have formed any. Yes, we will invest you with
the sovereignty of those puissant intellects which give to the world its
Mirabeaus, Talleyrands, Pitts, and Metternichs--all the clever Crispins
who treat the destinies of a kingdom as gamblers' stakes, just as
ordinary men play dominoes for _kirschenwasser_. We have given you out
to be the most undaunted champion who ever wrestled in a drinking-bout
at close quarters with the monster called Carousal, whom all bold
spirits wish to try a fall with; we have gone so far as to say that
you have never yet been worsted. I hope you will not make liars of us.
Taillefer, our amphitryon, has undertaken to surpass the circumscribed
saturnalias of the petty modern Lucullus. He is rich enough to infuse
pomp into trifles, and style and charm into dissipation... Are you
listening, Raphael?" asked the orator, interrupting himself.

"Yes," answered the young man, less surprised by the accomplishment
of his wishes than by the natural manner in which the events had come
about.

He could not bring himself to believe in magic, but he marveled at the
accidents of human fate.

"Yes, you say, just as if you were thinking of your grandfather's
demise," remarked one of his neighbors.

"Ah!" cried Raphael, "I was thinking, my friends, that we are in a fair
way to become very great scoundrels," and there was an ingenuousness in
his tones that set these writers, the hope of young France, in a roar.
"So far our blasphemies have been uttered over our cups; we have passed
our judgments on life while drunk, and taken men and affairs in an
after-dinner frame of mind. We were innocent of action; we were bold in
words. But now we are to be branded with the hot iron of politics;