"You have come to ask my support, but you are an atom in that decrepit
heap which is made hideous by self-interest, which trembles and squirms,
and, because it is so mean, tries to make France mean too. My strong
nature, my ideas, would work like poison in you; twice you have tricked
me, twice have I overthrown you. If we unite a third time, it must be
a very serious matter. I should kill myself if I allowed myself to be
duped; for I should be to blame, not you."

Then we heard the humblest entreaties, the most fervent adjuration,
not to deprive the country of such superior talents. The man spoke of
patriotism, and Marcas uttered a significant "_Ouh! ouh!_" He laughed at
his would-be patron. Then the statesman was more explicit; he bowed to
the superiority of his erewhile counselor; he pledged himself to enable
Marcas to remain in office, to be elected deputy; then he offered him a
high appointment, promising him that he, the speaker, would thenceforth
be the subordinate of a man whose subaltern he was only worthy to be.
He was in the newly-formed ministry, and he would not return to power
unless Marcas had a post in proportion to his merit; he had already made
it a condition, Marcas had been regarded as indispensable.

Marcas refused.

"I have never before been in a position to keep my promises; here is an
opportunity of proving myself faithful to my word, and you fail me."

To this Marcas made no reply. The boots were again audible in the
passage on the way to the stairs.

"Marcas! Marcas!" we both cried, rushing into his room. "Why refuse? He
really meant it. His offers are very handsome; at any rate, go to see
the ministers."

In a twinkling, we had given Marcas a hundred reasons. The minister's
voice was sincere; without seeing him, we had felt sure that he was
honest.

"I have no clothes," replied Marcas.

"Rely on us," said Juste, with a glance at me.

Marcas had the courage to trust us; a light flashed in his eye, he
pushed his fingers through his hair, lifting it from his forehead with
a gesture that showed some confidence in his luck and when he had thus
unveiled his face, so to speak, we saw in him a man absolutely unknown
to us--Marcas sublime, Marcas in his power! His mind was in its
element--the bird restored to the free air, the fish to the water, the
horse galloping across the plain.

It was transient. His brow clouded again, he had, it would seem, a
vision of his fate. Halting doubt had