"But M. Cromwell is dead, and his container is now the
tomb."

"My dear Planchet, I see with pleasure that you have not
only become a mathematician, but a philosopher."

"Monsieur, in my grocery business I use much printed paper,
and that instructs me."

"Bravo! You know then, in that case -- for you have not
learnt mathematics and philosophy without a little history
-- that after this Cromwell so great, there came one who was
very little."

"Yes; he was named Richard, and he has done as you have, M.
d'Artagnan -- he has tendered his resignation."

"Very well said -- very well! After the great man who is
dead, after the little one who tendered his resignation,
there came a third. This one is named Monk; he is an able
general, considering he has never fought a battle; he is a
skillful diplomatist, considering that he never speaks in
public, and that having to say `good-day' to a man, he
meditates twelve hours, and ends by saying `good-night;'
which makes people exclaim `miracle!' seeing that it falls
out correctly."

"That is rather strong," said Planchet; "but I know another
political man who resembles him very much."