bed you somewhat
roughly, but he, who, it seems, was not of an enduring nature, took out
his sword, whereupon you, monseigneur, who never look twice before
committing a folly, drew your rapier and tried your skill with the
officer."

"And the result?" asked the regent.

"Was, that you got a scratch on the shoulder, in return for which you
bestowed on your adversary a sword-thrust in the breast."

"But it was not dangerous?" asked the regent, anxiously.

"No; fortunately the blade glided along the ribs."

"So much the better."

"But that is not all."

"How?"

"It appears that you owed the officer a special grudge."

"I had never seen him."

"Princes strike from a distance."

"What do you mean?"

"This officer had been a captain for eight years, when, on your
highness's coming into power, he was dismissed."

"Then I suppose he deserved it."

"Ah, monseigneur, you would make us out as infallible as the pope!"

"He must have committed some cowardly act."

"He is one of the bravest officers in the service."

"Some infamous act then?"

"He is the most honest fellow breathing."

"Then this is an injustice to be repaired."

"Exactly; and that is why I prepared this major's brevet."

"Give it to me, Dubois, you have some good in you sometimes."

A diabolical smile passed over Dubois's face as he drew from his
portfolio a second paper.

The regent watched him uneasily.

"What is that paper?" asked he.

"Monseigneur, you have repaired an act of injustice, now do an act of
justice."

"The order to arrest the Chevalier Gaston de Chanlay, and place him in
the Bastille," cried the regent. "Ah! I see now why you bribed me with a
good action; but stay, this requires reflection."

"Do you think I propose to you an abuse of power, monseigneur?" asked
Dubois, laughing.

"No, but yet--"

"Monseigneur," continued Dubois, "when we have in our hands the
government of a kingdom, the thing most necessary is, to govern."

"But it seems to me that I am the master."

"To reward, yes; but on condition of punishing--the balance of justice
is destroyed, monseigneur, if an eternal and blind mercy weighs down one
of the scales. To act as you always wish, and often do, is not good, but
weak. What is the reward of virtue, if you do not punish vice?"

"Then," said the regent, the more impatiently that he felt he was
defending a bad though generous cause, "if you wished me to be severe,
you should not have brought