ministerial journal, in which he also wrote articles inspired by the
ministers,--a very well understood, clearly defined, and quite
unassailable position. Du Bruel was not lacking in those diplomatic
little tricks which go so far to conciliate general good-will. He sent
Madame Rabourdin an opera-box for a first representation, took her
there in a carriage and brought her back,--an attention which
evidently pleased her. Rabourdin, who was never exacting with his
subordinates allowed du Bruel to go off to rehearsals, come to the
office at his own hours, and work at his vaudevilles when there.
Monsieur le Duc de Chaulieu, the minister, knew that du Bruel was
writing a novel which was to be dedicated to himself. Dressed with the
careless ease of a theatre man, du Bruel wore, in the morning,
trousers strapped under his feet, shoes with gaiters, a waistcoat
evidently vamped over, an olive surtout, and a black cravat. At night
he played the gentleman in elegant clothes. He lived, for good
reasons, in the same house as Florine, an actress for whom he wrote
plays. Du Bruel, or to give him his pen name, Cursy, was working just
now at a piece in five acts for the Francais. Sebastien was devoted to
the author,--who occasionally gave him tickets to the pit,--and
applauded his pieces at the parts which du Bruel told him were of
doubtful interest, with all the faith and enthusiasm of his years. In
fact, the youth looked upon the playwright as a great author, and it
was to Sebastien that du Bruel said, the day after a first
representation of a vaudeville produced, like all vaudevilles, by
three collaborators, "The audience preferred the scenes written by
two."

"Why don't you write alone?" asked Sebastien naively.

There were good reasons why du Bruel did not write alone. He was the