communication with other associations with which he was acquainted; and
then, as soon as they held all Paris in their grasp, they would rise
and make the Tuileries' people dance. A series of endless discussions,
renewed during several months, then began--discussions on questions of
organisation, on questions of ways and means, on questions of strategy,
and of the form of the future Government. As soon as Rose had brought
Clemence's grog, Charvet's and Robine's beer, the coffee for Logre,
Gavard, and Florent, and the liqueur glasses of brandy for Lacaille
and Alexandre, the door of the cabinet was carefully fastened, and the
debate began.

Charvet and Florent were naturally those whose utterances were listened
to with the greatest attention. Gavard had not been able to keep his
tongue from wagging, but had gradually related the whole story of
Cayenne; and Florent found himself surrounded by a halo of martyrdom.
His words were received as though they were the expression of
indisputable dogmas. One evening, however, the poultry dealer, vexed
at hearing his friend, who happened to be absent, attacked, exclaimed:
"Don't say anything against Florent; he's been to Cayenne!"

Charvet was rather annoyed by the advantage which this circumstance
gave to Florent. "Cayenne, Cayenne," he muttered between his teeth. "Ah,
well, they were not so badly off there, after all."

Then he attempted to prove that exile was a mere nothing, and that real
suffering consisted in remaining in one's oppressed country, gagged in
presence of triumphant despotism. And besides, he urged, it wasn't his
fault that he hadn't been arrested on the Second of December. Next,
however, he hinted that those who had allowed themselves to be captured
were imbeciles. His secret jealousy made him a systematic opponent of