want to reign in peace, let them seek creditors in the towns and
villages, and place their loans there; above all, they ought not to
let foreigners draw interest away from France; some day an alien nation
might ask us for the capital. Whereas if capital and interest are held
only in France, neither France nor credit can perish. That's what saved
England. Your plan is the tradesman's plan. An ambitious public man
should produce some bold scheme,--he should make himself another Law,
without Law's fatal ill-luck; he ought to exhibit the power of credit,
and show that we should reduce, not principal, but interest, as they do
in England."

"Come, come, Celestine," said Rabourdin; "mix up ideas as much as
you please, and make fun of them,--I'm accustomed to that; but don't
criticise a work of which you know nothing as yet."

"Do I need," she asked, "to know a scheme the essence of which is to
govern France with a civil service of six thousand men instead of twenty
thousand? My dear friend, even allowing it were the plan of a man of
genius, a king of France who attempted to carry it out would get himself
dethroned. You can keep down a feudal aristocracy by levelling a few
heads, but you can't subdue a hydra with thousands. And is it with the
present ministers--between ourselves, a wretched crew--that you expect
to carry out your reform? No, no; change the monetary system if you
will, but do not meddle with men, with little men; they cry out too
much, whereas gold is dumb."

"But, Celestine, if you will talk, and put wit before argument, we shall
never understand each other."

"Understand! I understand what that paper, in which you have analyzed
the capacities of the men in office, will lead to," she replied, paying
no attention to what her husband said. "Good heavens! you have sharpened
the axe to cut off your own head. Holy Virgin! why didn't you consult
me? I could have at least prevented you from committing anything to
writing, or, at any rate, if you insisted on putting it to paper, I
would have written it down myself, and it should never have left this
house. Good God! to think that he never told me! That's what men are!
capable of sleeping with the wife of their bosom for seven years, and
keeping a secret from her! Hiding their thoughts from a poor woman for
seven years!--doubting her devotion!"

"But," cried Rabourdin, provoked, "for eleven years and more I have been
unable to discuss anything with you because you