he had considered the press as a weapon of opposition which every good
government should break. Since September 4, 1870, he had had the
ambition to become Keeper of the Seals, so that everybody might see how
the old Bohemian who formerly explained the code while dining on
sauerkraut, would appear as supreme chief of the magistracy.

Idiots by the dozen had climbed over his back. Now having become aged in
the ordinary honors of the Senate, unpolished, married to a brewery girl,
poor, lazy, disillusioned, his old Jacobin spirit and his sincere
contempt for the people surviving his ambition, made of him a good man
for the Government. This time, as a part of the Garain combination, he
imagined he held the Department of Justice. And his protector, who would
not give it to him, was an unfortunate rival. He laughed, while moulding
a dog from a piece of bread.

M. Berthier-d'Eyzelles, calm and grave, caressed his handsome white
beard.

"Do you not think, Monsieur Garain, that it would be well to give a place
in the Cabinet to the men who have followed from the beginning the
political principles toward which we are directing ourselves to-day?"

"They lost themselves in doing it," replied Garam, impatiently. "The
politician never should be in advance of circumstances. It is an error
to be in the right too soon. Thinkers are not men of business. And
then--let us talk frankly--if you want a Ministry of the Left Centre
variety, say so: I will retire. But I warn you that neither the Chamber
nor the country will sustain you."

"It is evident," said Count Martin, "that we must be sure of a majority."