In truth, things are in a sad way here, for there is robbery on
every hand, and who can tell what the end may be? Perhaps that we
go to the English after all. Monsieur Doltaire--you do not know
him, I think--says, "If the English eat us, as they swear they
will, they'll die of megrims, our affairs are so indigestible." At
another time he said, "Better to be English than to be damned." And
when some one asked him what he meant, he said, "Is it not read
from the altar, 'Cursed is he that putteth his trust in man'? The
English trust nobody, and we trust the English." That was aimed at
Captain Moray, who was present, and I felt it a cruel thing for him
to say; but Captain Moray, smiling at the ladies, said, "Better
to be French and damned than not to be French at all." And this
pleased Monsieur Doltaire, who does not love him. I know not
why, but there are vague whispers that he is acting against the
Englishman for causes best known at Versailles, which have nothing
to do with our affairs here. I do believe that Monsieur Doltaire
would rather hear a clever thing than get ten thousand francs. At
such times his face lights up, he is at once on his mettle, his
eyes look almost fiendishly beautiful. He is a handsome man, but
he is wicked, and I do not think he has one little sense of morals.
I do not suppose he would stab a man in the back, or remove his
neighbour's landmark in the night, though he'd rob him of it in
open daylight, and call it "enterprise"--a usual word with him.

He is a favourite with Madame Cournal, who influences Bigot most,
and one day we may see the boon companions at each other's throats;
and if either falls, I hope it maybe Bigot, for Monsieur Doltaire
is, at least, no robber. Indeed, he is kind to the poor in a
disdainful sort of way. He gives to them and scoffs at them at the