“Yes,” said la Peyrade, “you could very well support that expense, for considering the end you want to obtain there is nothing exorbitant in it.  In England they make much greater sacrifices to get a seat in Parliament; but in any case, I beg you to observe that the costs are very high on that estimate, and some could be cut off altogether.  For instance, you would not want an administrator.  You, yourself, an old accountant, and I, an old journalist, can very well manage the affair between us.  Also rent, we needn’t count that; you have your old apartment in the rue Saint-Dominique which is not yet leased; that will make a fine newspaper office.”

“All that costs off two thousand four hundred francs a year,” said Thuillier.

“Well, that’s something; but your error consists in calculating on the yearly cost.  When do the elections take place?”

“In two months,” said Thuillier.

“Very good; two months will cost you thirty thousand francs, even supposing the paper had no subscribers.”

“True,” said Thuillier, “the expense is certainly less than I thought at first.  But does a newspaper really seem to you essential?”

“So essential that without that power in our hands, I won’t have anything to do with the election.  You don’t seem to see, my poor fellow, that in going to live in the other quarter you have lost, electorally speaking, an immense amount of ground.  You are no longer the man of the place, and your election could be balked by the cry of what the English call ‘absenteeism.’  This makes your game very hard to play.”

“I admit that,” said Thuillier; “but there are so many things wanted besides money,—­a name for one thing, a manager, editorial staff, and so forth.”

“A name, we have one made to hand; editors, they are you and I and a few young fellows who grow on every bush in Paris.  As for the manager, I have a man in view.”

“What name is it?” asked Thuillier.

“L’Echo de la Bievre.”

“But there is already a paper of that name.”

“Precisely, and that’s why I give my approval to the affair.  Do you think I should be fool enough to advise you to start an entirely new paper?  ‘Echo de la Bievre!’ that title is a treasure to a man who wants support for his candidacy in the 12th arrondissement.  Say the word only, and I put that treasure into your hands.”

“How?” asked Thuillier, with curiosity.

“Parbleu! by buying it; it can be had for a song.”

“There now, you see,” said Thuillier in a discouraged tone; “you never counted in the cost of purchase.”

“How you dwell on nothings!” said la Peyrade, hunching his shoulders; “we have other and more important difficulties to solve.”

“Other difficulties?” echoed Thuillier.

“Parbleu!” exclaimed la Peyrade; “do you suppose that after all that has taken place between us I should boldly harness myself to your election without knowing exactly what benefit I am to get for it?”