retted the dragon's crest. And the fair
Jewesses shared in these regrets in order that they might be taken for
Christians.

One July as he was walking in a suburban street which ended in some
dusty fields, Agaric heard groans coming from a moss-grown well that had
been abandoned by the gardeners. And almost immediately he was told by
a cobbler of the neighbourhood that a ragged man who had shouted out
"Hurrah for the Republic!" had been thrown into the well by some cavalry
officers who were passing, and had sunk up to his ears in the mud.
Agaric was quite ready to see a general significance in this particular
fact. He inferred a great fermentation in the whole aristocratic and
military caste, and concluded that it was the moment to act.

The next day he went to the end of the Wood of Conils to visit the
good Father Cornemuse. He found the monk in his laboratory pouring a
golden-coloured liquor into a still. He was a short, fat, little man,
with vermilion-tinted cheeks and an elaborately polished bald head. His
eyes had ruby-coloured pupils like a guinea-pig's. He graciously saluted
his visitor and offered him a glass of the St. Orberosian liqueur, which
he manufactured, and from the sale of which he gained immense wealth.

Agaric made a gesture of refusal. Then, standing on his long feet and
pressing his melancholy hat against his stomach, he remained silent.

"Take a seat," said Cornemuse to him.

Agaric sat down on a rickety stool, but continued mute.

Then the monk of Conils inquired:

"Tell me some news of your young pupils. Have the dear children sound
views?"

"I am very satisfied with them," answered the teacher. "It is everything
to be nurtured in sound principles. It is necessary to have sound views
before having any views at all, for afterwards it is too late. . . .
Yes, I have great grounds for comfort. But we live in a sad age."

"Alas!" sighed Cornemuse.

"We are passing through evil days. . . ."

"Times of trial."

"Yet, Cornemuse, the mind of the public is not so entirely corrupted as
it seems."

"Perhaps you are right."

"The people are tired of a government that ruins them and does nothing
for them. Every day fresh scandals spring up. The Republic is sunk in
shame. It is ruined."

"May God grant it!"

"Cornemuse, what do you think of Prince Crucho?"

"He is an amiable young man and, I dare say, a worthy scion of an august
stock. I pity him for having to endure the pains of exile at