accused him of insulting the army and betraying the country and flung his portfolio at his head.  He was replaced by a second, who did the same.  To him succeeded a third, who imitated these examples, and those after him to the number of seventy acted like their predecessors, until the venerable La Trinite groaned beneath the weight of bellicose portfolios.  The seventy-first Minister of War, van Julep, retained office.  Not that he was in disagreement with so many and such noble colleagues, but he had been commissioned by them generously to betray his Prime Minister, to cover him with shame and opprobrium, and to convert the new trial to the glory of Greatauk, the satisfaction of the Anti-Pyrotists, the profit of the monks, and the restoration of Prince Crucho.

General van Julep, though endowed with high military virtues, was not intelligent enough to employ the subtle conduct and exquisite methods of Greatauk.  He thought, like General Panther, that tangible proofs against Pyrot were necessary, that they could never ave too many of them, that they could never have even enough.  He expressed these’ sentiments to his Chief of Staff, who was only too inclined to agree with them.

“Panther,” said he, “we are at the moment when we need abundant and superabundant proofs.”

“You have said enough, General,” answered Panther, “I will complete my piles of documents.”

Six months later the proofs against Pyrot filled two storeys of the Ministry of War.  The ceiling fell in beneath the weight of the bundles, and the avalanche of falling documents crushed two head clerks, fourteen second clerks, and sixty copying clerks, who were at work upon the ground floor arranging a change in the fashion of the cavalry gaiters.  The walls of the huge edifice had to be propped.  Passers-by saw with amazement enormous beams and monstrous stanchions which reared themselves obliquely against the noble front of the building, now tottering and disjointed, and blocked up the streets, stopped the carriages, and presented to the motor-omnibuses an obstacle against which they dashed with their loads of passengers.

The judges who had condemned Pyrot were not, properly speaking, judges but soldiers.  The judges who had condemned Colomban were real judges, but of inferior rank, wearing seedy black clothes like church vergers, unlucky wretches of judges, miserable judgelings.  Above them were the superior judges who wore ermine robes over their black gowns.  These, renowned for their knowledge and doctrine, formed a court whose terrible name expressed power.  It was called the Court of Appeal (Cassation) so as to make it clear that it was the hammer suspended over the judgments and decrees of all other jurisdictions.

One of these superior red Judges of the Supreme Court, called Chaussepied, led a modest and tranquil life in a suburb of Alca.  His soul was pure, his heart honest, his spirit just.  When he had finished studying his documents he used to play the violin and cultivate hyacinths.  Every Sunday he dined with his neighbours the Mesdemoiselles Helbivore.  His old age was cheerful and robust and his friends often praised the amenity of his character.