ettable
indiscretions, which were overlooked as being the freedoms of a soldier
who knew nothing of intrigue. Every morning he went to see Chatillon,
whom he treated with the cordial roughness of a brother in arms.

"Well, old buffer, so you are popular," said he to him. "Your phiz is
sold on the heads of pipes and on liqueur bottles and every drunkard in
Alca spits out your name as he rolls in the gutter. . . . Chatillon, the
hero of the Penguins! Chatillon, defender of the Penguin glory! . . .
Who would have said it? Who would have thought it?"

And he laughed with his harsh laugh. Then changing his tone: "But,
joking aside, are you not a bit surprised at what is happening to you?"

"No, indeed," answered Chatillon.

And out went the honest Vulcanmould, banging the door behind him.

In the mean time Chatillon had taken a little flat at number 18
Johannes-Talpa Street, so that he might receive Viscountess Olive. They
met there every day. He was desperately in love with her. During his
martial and neptunian life he had loved crowds of women, red, black,
yellow, and white, and some of them had been very beautiful. But before
he met the Viscountess he did not know what a woman really was. When the
Viscountess Olive called him her darling, her dear darling, he felt in
heaven and it seemed to him that the stars shone in her hair.

She would come a little late, and, as she put her bag on the table, she
would ask pensively:

"Let me sit on your knee."

And then she would talk of subjects suggested by the pious Agaric,
interrupting the conversation with sighs and kisses. She would ask him
to dismiss such and such an officer, to give a command to another,
to send the squadron here or there. And at the right moment she would
exclaim:

"How young you are, my dear!"

And he did whatever she wished, for he was simple, he was anxious to
wear the Constable's sword, and to receive a large grant; he did not
dislike playing a double part, he had a vague idea of saving Penguinia,
and he was in love.

This delightful woman induced him to remove the troops that were at La
Cirque, the port where Crucho was to land. By this means it was made
certain that there would be no obstacle to prevent the prince from
entering Penguinia.

The pious Agaric organised public meetings so as to keep up the
agitation. The Dracophils held one or two every day in some of the
thirty-six districts of Alca, and preferably in the poorer quarters.
T