e who pressed forward to be given
positions of trust was Jean Benoit.

"What pig will you shear?" demanded Zotique, (looking for an instant, as
he turned to shout towards another quarter, "En'oyez done; en'oyez!")

"I take the Reveilliere."

"The Reveillere is parted among three."--("Be quiet there!")

"Well then,"--grandiloquently,--"I take from St. Jean de Dieu to the
parish Church of Dormilliere."

"Too much for four?" pronounced Zotique.

Spoon pressed heavily behind Benoit, and whispered something.

"La Misericoide then," said Benoit, hastily.

Zotique shouted to the Secretary: "Jean Benoit the countryside of La
Misericorde!" And to Benoit again:

"There is your committee."

But Jean would have a hand in shoving forward his admired bar-tender:
"Give monsieur something near my own."

"Cuiller--the village of La Misericorde," directed Zotique. "Now, both
of you, the chief thing you have to do is to report to us if the Bleus
commence to work there. Go; go!"

"Salut, Benoit; how goes it; how is the wife? and the father?--the
children also? I hope you are well. Comment ca-va-t-il Cuiller?"--asked
Chamilly.

Spoon took the proffered hand with his sleepy grin. Benoit responded by
an obsequiously graceful shaking and deliberative loquacity:

"Well; well, Monsieur the Seigneur,--We are very well. The wife is well,
the father, the children also. And how is Madame the Seigneuresse? and
yourself? The crisis approaches, does it not? Eh bien, at that point you
will find Jean Benoit strong enough. I have a good heart, Monseigneur.
Once Xiste Brin said to me, 'Monsieur the Director, you have a good
heart.' Deign to accept my professions, monseigneur, of a loyalty the
most solemn, of a breast for ever faithful."

"I have always accepted your friendship, Benoit, and trusted you,"
smiled generous Haviland. "See here, Zotique, give Benoit a responsible
post.--How different must be our feelings at this priceless service of
personal affection from those of our opponents, served only for money."

"No money!" blurted Spoon. "Taurieu! An election without money?"

Chamilly, with one quiet glance, turned away to L'Honorable. "Without
'tin,'--St. Christophe, I say!--St. Laurent!"

"Keep quiet--silence, I pray thee," returned Benoit, and drew his
companion aside.

"Why did Benoit call himself Director?" Chrysler asked.

Haviland and the Honorable smiled. Chamilly answered:

"It is a weakness of his ever since he was p