immoderate appetites at the delicate feast.  They have the gluttony of famished children, and on the most perilous question they are simply gourmands.  It is woman again to whom I refer.  The country squires and gentlemen riders, who have grown old in their province with the love of farm-wenches, or small tradesmen professing medicine or law within their sub-prefectures, after having made verses for the female tax-gatherer, all, you understand, all are hungry to know that unknown creature:  woman.  And speedily enough the woman has drained their Excellencies.  Oh! yes, even to the marrow!  She robs the Opposition of its energy; the faithful to liberty, of the virility of their faith.  Energetic ministers or ministers with ideas are not long before woman destroys both their strength and their ideas.  Eh! parbleu! it is just because they do not rule Paris as one pleads a civil suit in a provincial court.”

The minister listened with a somewhat anxious, sober air to these truisms, clear-cut as with a knife, expressed by the old journalist without passion, without exasperation, without anger.  He was, in fact, pleased that Ramel should speak to him so candidly.

Yes, indeed, what the old “veteran,”—­as Denis sometimes called himself—­said, were Vaudrey’s own sentiments.  These sufficiently saddening observations he had himself made more than once.  It was precisely to put an end to such abuses, folly, and provincialism, this hobbling spirit inculcated in a great nation, that he had assumed power, and was about to increase his efforts.

He thanked Ramel profusely and sincerely.  This visit would not be his last, he would often return to this Rue Boursault where he knew that a true friend would be waiting.

“And you will be right,” said Denis.  “Nowhere will you find a love more profound, or hear truths more frankly spoken.  You see, Vaudrey, the walls of the ministerial apartments are too thick.  There, neither the noise of carriages nor the sound of street-cries is heard.  I have passed a few days in a palace—­in ’48,—­at the Tuileries, as a national guard:  at the end of two hours, I heard nothing.  The carpets, the curtains, stifled everything, and, believe me, a cannon might have been fired without my hearing anything more than an echo, much less could I hear the truth!  Besides, people do not like to pronounce truth too loudly.  They are afraid.”

“I swear to you that I will listen to everything,” replied Sulpice, “and I will strive to understand everything.  And since I have the power—­”

Denis Ramel shook his head: 

“Power?  Ah! you will see if that is ever taken in any but homoeopathic doses!  Why, you will have against you the bureaux, those sacrosanct bureaux that have governed this country since bureaucracy has existed, and they will cram more than one Warcolier down your throat, I warn you.”

“Yes, if I allow it,” said Vaudrey haughtily.