ey
hairs and other changes, with which life disguises the outer man,
the schoolfellows found each other just what they were when they sat
together in class: one wilful, high-spirited, rebellious; the other
obedient and submissive, with a tendency to indolence, which had been
fostered by his quiet country life. After all Vedrine was perhaps right.
Even if he was sure of succeeding, was the thing worth the trouble? He
was particularly anxious about his invalid sister, who, while he went
about canvassing, must be left all alone at Clos-Jallanges. A few days'
absence had already made her feel nervous and low, and the morning's
post had brought a miserable letter.

He was by this time passing before the dragoon barracks; and his
attention was caught by the appearance of the paupers, waiting on the
other side of the street for the distribution of the remains of the
soup. They had come long before for fear of missing their turn, and were
seated on the benches or standing in a line against the parapet of the
quay. Foul and grimy, with the hair and beard of human dogs, and dressed
in the filthiest rags, they waited like a herd, neither moving nor
speaking to each other, but peering into the great barrack-yard to catch
the arrival of the porringers and the adjutant's signal to come up. It
was horrible to see in the brilliant sunlight the silent row of
savage eyes and hungry faces, fixed with the same animal look upon the
wide-open gate.

'What are you doing there, my dear boy?' said a voice, and Astier-Rehu,
in high spirits, took his pupil's arm. The poet pointed to the pathetic
group on the opposite pavement. 'Ah, yes,' said the historian, 'Ah,
yes.' He had in truth no eyes for anything outside books, nor any direct
and personal perception of the facts of life. Indeed, from the way in
which he took Freydet off, saying as he did so, 'You may as well go with
me as far as the Institute,' it was clear that he did not approve the
habit of mooning in the streets when you ought to be better employed.
Leaning gently on his favourite's arm, he began to tell him of his
rapturous delight at having chanced upon a most astonishing discovery, a
letter about the Academie from the Empress Catherine to Diderot, just in
time for his forthcoming address to the Grand-Duke. He meant to read the
letter at the meeting and perhaps to present his Highness, in the name
of the Society, with the original in the handwriting of his ancestress.
Baron Huchen