INCOGNITO (rousing himself, and with a half smile). "Always cynical,
Victor--always belying yourself. But now that you have advised my
course, what will be your own? Accompany me, and wait for better times."

"No, noble friend; our positions are different. Yours is made--mine yet
to make. But for this war I think I could have secured a seat in the
Chamber. As I wrote you, I found that my kinsfolk were of much influence
in their department, and that my restitution to my social grade, and the
repute I had made as an Orleanist, inclined them to forget my youthful
errors and to assist my career. But the Chamber ceases to exist. My
journal I shall drop. I cannot support the Government; it is not a
moment to oppose it. My prudent course is silence."

INCOGNITO.--"But is not your journal essential to your support?"

DE MAULEON.--"Fortunately not. Its profits enabled me to lay by for the
rainy day that has come; and having reimbursed you and all friends the
sums necessary to start it, I stand clear of all debt, and, for my
slender wants, a rich man. If I continued the journal I should be
beggared; for there would be no readers to Common Sense in this interval
of lunacy. Nevertheless, during this interval, I trust to other ways for
winning a name that will open my rightful path of ambition whenever we
again have a legislature in which Common Sense can be heard."

INCOGNITO.--"But how win that name, silenced as a writer?"

DE MAULEON.--"You forget that I have fought in Algeria. In a few days
Paris will be in a state of siege; and then--and then," he added, and
very quietly dilated on the renown of a patriot or the grave of a
soldier.