Two banks of the Seine

f two large rooms, the windows of which gave him a limitless vista over the yoke-elm trees of the Luxemburg. He was a thick-set, sanguine man, ab

of Industry, from which, however, had it not been for the same powerful i

herited a taste for political opposition. He had detested in turn each government which his functions compelled him to serve, the second empire, M. Thiers, the Seize-Mai, and the subsequent rule of "opportunism." Finall

had returned to his desk, and then had rushed out to order new visiting-cards, on which appeared under his name, ancien sous-chef de bureau au Ministère de ndustrie, and one of these he had himself nailed up on the door of his apartment. But his vengeance had stopped there. The official mind within him forbade his persisting in what was almost the usurpation of a title, and he finally decid

exhaustible. He wished at first to reduce his hatred to a formula, to justify his discontent with some sort of principles, and he inclined towards socialism. Unfortunately, however, he was lost in questions of capital and wages; statistics bored him and political economy upset him with its systems, which were always either unstabl

that much purification, and they would settle the remainder in the best way possible. M. Raindal, junior, was not one of those swaggering dreamers who promise to destroy and rebuild society as if it were the hut of a road-mender. He knew how powerful was tradition, how necessary the family, and he appreciated the indispensable charm of freedom. Before doing away with that, let Frenchmen think about clearing the country from the vermin that infested it.

h these masters stirred up the flames. Rochefort had helped him to find in his heart the hatred of all politicians; with Paul Bert or his disciples he had discerned in himself a hatred for the priests and all devout Catholics; with Drumont, hatred for Jews and exotics. He was always reading the articles and the books of these pamphleteers and could quote whole passages from memory. His conversation showed this; it was discordant with the most diverse insults. The

ed couch where he was dozing and, slightly limping and holding his back with one

ter the two brothers had kissed as usual. "Come th

as he followed him. "How do you feel

in which he used to receive, Cyprien affectionately laid his hand o

a fond indulgence-a luxury, a treat he offered himself when he was kept at home by rheumatism. Otherwise he only read the papers at the café or at the brasserie, and in small doses-perhaps two or three aggressive sheets, which gave

... Enough to amuse me and to make you swell with p

est of a senator, an ex-minister and deputy, well-known for his intrigues, his accommodating complacency towards the b

nd the name ... and yet, I must admit the news caused me to pass a very pleasant day.... It is high time that all those scoundrel

It is getting serious! All these ro

ersonal inclination to consider things through the immensity of time, in the infinite span of past and future centuries, he was not so much indifferent to his own time as disdainful of it. Wheneve

bled period.... There are many abuses.... How can it be helped?..

is head as if to disentangle himself from his brothe aphorisms. "Why not simp

chided his illustrious elder brother whom he

man of the day, the famil standard, the glory of the French Egyptology, with the history of his life from the most remote times to our own days! Tara! Tara! Ta-ta-ta-ta!..." He gave his broth

er which his long-sightedness co

s himself, his own strong nose, his white beard and benevo

he posts at the crossings give one any idea of the places one goes through. To him, however, these dry figures and words were as alive as his own human flesh. His lips trembled in a nervous smile. Vanity overflowed from his heart t

am much obliged to yo

A gesture from Cyprien ca

are insulted in the Fléau, a filthy rag written by calotins and r

oice that trembled with sarc

C INDIS

ch have attracted a special class of readers. Without desiring in any way to prejudice this delicate controversy, we are nevertheless compelled to admit that this book is one of the most immoral productions which have for a long time been published by a member of the Institute. The footnotes especially, although written in Latin, show signs of a revolting indecency. The author may claim in his defense that he has merely translated Egyptian pamphlets of the period and that, moreover, he has translated them only into Latin. It is nevertheless a fact that, wittingly or otherwise, he has given publicity to a mass of veritable filth. We

aper into a ball and

nce, as I told you, only Jews read this letter.... However, if you were to authorize

proceeded with his reading. He lifted his hand with a philosophi

ttle come-backs of fame....

ho

ences Morales.... I recognize his hand.... He wants the prize for his History of the Freed Men in the Roman Empire.... I am in

obstructed by that rage, like bitter gall, which one

sce

then, his voice re

d and calumny among members of my profession.... If you knew what sewers run under what is called the pure regions

ed disda

n who has worked twelve hours a day for the last forty years.... It is all they ha

l swing to this revolt, the vehemence of which was a d

a true Raindal. You do not like to be goaded.... You ki

M. Raindal said, putting a s

cial muttered with surp

... He is givi

ou are

érèse.... A young man, a young s

the polished dome of hi

Well, I have an idea that my nephew will not accept that young savant.... However, you are right; one has to see.... But be cautio

l rose to

are wrong.... When his ambitions are not co

istled inc

e.... Well, see you

his brother to th

when M. Raindal reached his home

large rectangular oak tables, face to face as in a bank, almost filled the room. Thérèse was sitting at one of them, writing by

ork!" M. Rain

with a recrudescent selfish tenderness, with that need for a closer contact which t

elf with a smile,

your article for La Revue. They are coming for them

I obey," M.

hining in the texture of the gold curtains and the thin yellow circle which the lamp threw on the ceiling. The only sounds were the somewhat halting breathing of M. Raindal,

mother?... Has sh

t she will not be long....

write, she added with a

nce I have begun, let it go!... I thought before I came in th

ommiseration.... "That is at least the second

d and looked

?... It makes her ha

ade a melanc

ed as a proof of lack of understanding-had he not done everything he could in the past to bring to his wife that calm happiness which he enjo

M. Raindal had not minded because he was in love with his fiancée. He would take care of her, cure her of it! On the very day that had followed their wedding in Alexandria, and later in Paris where they had settled, he had begun the cure and pursued it methodically. Every day he had discussed it with his wife for hours, preached to her and reasoned with her. Sh

senses, the howls, the moans, the diabolical contortions. And as the child grew up, her soul became gradually narrower at the flame of those tales, more sensitive, more fearful of sins. The slightest of them weighed upon her as an irremissible fault, a thorny burden that choked her heart. She must needs at once rush to a priest, unload before his indulgence that weight of anguish which was heavier than a load of lead. Often as she emerged from a sanct

dal was grunting as he wrote.... "If only s

doorbell rang

omes your mother.... I am anxiou

cape, lined with minever and slightly worn about the sh

ai

nd lay over her heart to suppr

the stair

yourself!" M. Ra

is passed! I

r. Her cheeks carried the frost of the wind outside; they were cold

late?" M. Raindal inquired, witho

prot

more than 5.15.... I went to Guerbois, to order a p

... Cypri

the red lumps of coke and lowered the wick of the smoking lamp. Then, feeling the weight of the silence which was pregn

aneously raised their heads a

ar that?...

ite discouraged. The young g

!... She is