pity the man among us who cannot place his millions in the
banks of England and America!"

He began to worry the creased bit of paper again, stealthy eyes on the
floor.

"The revolt is as certain as death itself," he said. "The Society of
the Internationale honeycombs Europe--your police archives show you
that--and I tell you that, of the two hundred thousand soldiers of
the national guard in Paris to-day, ninety per cent. are
ours--_ours_, soul and body. You don't believe it? Wait!

"Yet, for a moment, suppose I am right? Where are the government
forces? Who can stop us from working our will? Not the fragments of
beaten and exhausted armies! Not the thousands of prisoners which you
will see sent into captivity across the Rhine! What has the government
to lean on--a government discredited, impotent, beaten! What in the
world can prevent a change, an uprising, a revolution? Why, even if
there were no such thing as the Internationale and its secret Central
Committee--to which I have the honor to belong"--and here his sneer
was frightful--"I tell you that before a conquering German army had
recrossed the Rhine this land of chattering apes would be tearing one
another for very want of a universal scape-goat.

"But that is exactly where we come into the affair. We find the
popular scape-goat and point him out--the government, my friend. And
all we have to do is to let the mob loose, stand back, and count
profits."

He leaned forward in his chair, idly twisting his crumpled bit of
paper in one hand.

"I am not fool enough to believe that our reign will last," he said.
"It may last a month, two months, perhaps three. Then we leaders will
be at one another's throats--and the game is up! It's always so--mob
rule can't last--it never has lasted and never will. But the prudent
man will make hay before the brief sunshine is ended; I expect to
economize a little, and set aside enough--well, enough to make it pay,
you see."

He looked up at me quietly.

"I am perfectly willing to tell you this, even if you used your
approaching liberty to alarm the entire country, from the Emperor to
the most obscure scullion in the Tuileries. Nothing can stop us now,
nothing in the world can prevent our brief reign. Because these
things are certain, the armies of France will be beaten--they are
already beaten. Paris will hold out; Paris will fall; and with Paris
down goes France! And as sure as the sun shall rise on a conquered
people,