Edmond Dantès
to have been not policy, but the universal passion--love."
"He is an Antony, then, instead of a Curtius."
"So it seems. At the moment when, with incredible efforts, he had
effected the passage of the Moorish camp, and was off like an ostrich
for the desert, the firing of the French, who had reached his deira,
struck his ear. Back he flew like the lamiel. Twice his horse fell
under him dead--twice he was surrounded and seized, and twice, by his
wonderful agility, he regained his freedom. At last, perceiving that all
was lost, he turned his face again toward the desert, and, for two days
and nights, continued his flight. But his heart was behind him. Certain
of escape himself, he preferred hopeless captivity with her he loved,
and he returned."
"Quite poetical, on my word! Worthy of Sadi, the Arab Petrarch,
himself!" said Chateau-Renaud.
"He is decidedly a great man, that Abd-el-Kader. They say he bears his
misfortunes like a philosopher--or, better, a Turk--unalterably mild and
dignified, while his wives and his mother wail at his feet. Every
morning he reads the Koran to them, and during the orisons all the
windows are open, and a large fire blazes in the centre of the room."
"He is a decided godsend to the quidnuncs of Paris."
"So would be a Hottentot, or a North American savage," replied
Beauchamp.
"Rather a different affair this from the Ministerial soiree a week ago,
I fancy," remarked the editor.
"Rather. I will confess to you, Beauchamp, I attended that soiree from
curiosity to see whether M. Guizot retained his habitual placidity of
manner amid the clouds every day thickening around him."
"And what was the result?"
"Why, this. He was as polite and courteous as ever, and the same cold,
imperturbable smile was on his thin lip; but he looked careworn, and
upon his countenance was an expression of solicitude, when it was
closely watched, which I never saw there before. Ah, Beauchamp, I envy
not the Premier!"
"And the guests?" asked the journalist.
"Of guests there were but few; and the spacious salons of the Hotel des
Affaires Etrangeres looked dismal and deserted."
"The lovely Countess Leven--"
"Even she was absent."
"And the Countess of Dino?"
"Absent, too."
"The soiree must have been, indeed, dull without those 'charming queens
of intrigue,' as Louis Blanc courteously calls them. But tell me, Count,
is the Minister really the husband of the beautiful Leven, or is she
only his par amours?"
"No one knows. It is certain, however, that the great man devotes to the
enchantress every moment he can steal from the State, though to look at
him one would hardly suppose him a lover, in any meaning of the term.
But who knows? To read his writings can one imagine a purer man? But,
then, the affairs of Gisquet, Cubieres, Teste, and, last and worst,
Petit, whose case was before the Chamber, do they not betray deplorable
lack of firmness or morality? But no more of this. Who is that dark,
splendid woman to whom young Joliette seems so devoted? I have seen
them together before!"
"Why, you surely have not forgotten Louise d'Armilly, the charming
cantatrice! She has recently left the boards, to the irreparable loss of
the opera, having come into possession of an immense inheritance--some
millions, it is said, left by her father, who was once a banker of
Paris. She is asserted to be very accomplished and very ambitious, and,
as the young African paladin is thoroughly bewitched by her, and she by
him, they will, doubtless, be matched as well as paired."
"Has Lucien been here?" asked the Deputy, after a pause, during which
the young men surveyed the brilliant throngs that passed before them and
returned the salutations of their acquaintances.
"I think not. We have not met, at least," replied the journalist.
"He can hardly be spared to-night, I fancy. The Ministry have had a
stormy day, and are, doubtless, preparing for one still more stormy
to-morrow."
"There was a perfect tempest in the Chamber this evening, I understand."
"Call it rather a hurricane, a tornado!"
"Ah! give me the particulars; here, come with me into this corner.
Unfortunately, I was not present. I was busy on the General Committee
for the Banquet of the Twelfth Arrondissement, to-morrow, at Chaillot.
To avoid all possibility of collision with the police, we resolved, you
know, not to have the banquet within the walls of Paris, and so there is
to be a procession to the Barriere de l'Etoile. I have been there since
morning, and reached the city only in time to come here. So, you see, I
am edifyingly ignorant of the latest news."
"Then I have to inform you that there is to be no banquet after all."
"No banquet! Why, I thought it was compromised between Guizot and Barrot
that the banquet should be allowed to proceed under protest, in order
that the question might be brought before the Supreme Court."
"Such was the purpose, but a manifesto of the Banquet Committee, drawn
up by Marrast, it is said, and, at all events, issued in 'Le National'
this morning, declaring the design not only of a banquet, but of a
procession, changed everything. The address sets forth that all invited
to the banquet would assemble at the Place de la Madeleine to-morrow at
about noon, and thence, escorted by the National Guard, and accompanied
by the students of the universities, should proceed by the Place de la
Concorde to the Arc de Triomphe, at the extremity of the Avenue des
Champs Elysees, and thence to the immense pavilion on the grounds of
General Shian. Only one toast, 'Reform, and the right to assemble,' was
announced to be drunk, and then a commissary of police could enter a
formal protest against the whole proceeding on the spot, on which to
base a legal prosecution, and the multitude would disperse."
"A very sensible mode of procedure," quietly remarked the journalist,
"and one eminently calculated to relieve your friend Guizot and my
friend Barrot from the awkward dilemma of a direct issue."
"But so thought not my friend Guizot. Like his oracle, the sage
Montesquieu, he thought, 'Who assembles the people causes them to
revolt.' He took fright at the manifesto, as he was pleased to dignify
the simple programme in this morning's 'National,' and so, early in the
sitting, it was announced that the reform banquet was utterly prohibited
by M. Delessert, Prefect of Police, on the express injunction and
responsibility of M. Duchatel, Minister of the Interior, by and with the
advice of M. Hebert, Minister of Justice."
"Ha! and what said Odillon Barrot?" cried the journalist.
"He--why he said nothing at all, but immediately retired at the head of
the opposition from the Chamber."
"To consult?"
"Of course. An hour after, they returned in a body two hundred and fifty
strong, with Barrot at their head, who at once mounted the tribune and
denounced the despotism of the Ministry in forbidding the peaceful
assembling of the citizens, without tumult or arms, to discuss their
political rights. Duchatel replied, under great excitement.
"'Shall reform committees dare to call out the National Guard at their
pleasure?' he asked.
"'Will you dare to call out the National Guard?' retorted De Courtais,
fiercely. 'Only try it!'
"'The Government of France will never yield!' rejoined the Minister,
pale with fury.
"'Speak in your own name, Monsieur!' shouted Flocon.
"'I shall never speak in yours!' was the answer.
"'You play the game of menace!' cried Lesseps.
"'The Government will never yield!' again vociferated Duchatel.
"'Those were the very words of Charles X.!' observed M. Dantes, sternly.
The entire left responded in a terrific roar.
"'There is blood in those words!' shouted Ledru Rollin.
"'The Government will never yield!' the Minister of the Interior for the
third time vehemently exclaimed, and the right gathered around him.
'This is worse than Polignac or Peyronet!' vociferated Odillon Barrot,
his trumpet tones rising above all others like a clarion in a tempest.
Those hated names were greeted by a yell of abhorrence perfectly savage
from the left; then all was uproar--a dozen voices simultaneously
shouting at their
loudest--denunciation--menace--defiance--retort--clenched
hands--extended arms--furious gesticulations--every one on
tip-toe--fiery eyes--stamping feet--shouts of 'Order! order!
order!'--and, amid all, the incessant tinkling of old Sauzet's little
silver bell, which was just about as effective in restoring peace as it
would be to quiet the tempest now howling through the streets of Paris.
At length, in utter consternation and dismay the old President put on
his hat, and, pronouncing the seance ended, rushed from his chair amid a
hurricane of uproarious shouts."
"And Odillon Barrot?"
"Odillon Barrot led the opposition members immediately from the Chamber
to his own house, where they have been ever since in deliberation. It
was six o'clock when the sitting closed, and they must be in
consultation now, or Barrot would surely be here, if but for a moment,
out of respect to his bosom friend, our host. Ah! there he is, just
entering, surrounded by a perfect army of Republicans--De Courtais,
Marrast, Lesseps, Duvergier, Flocon, Lamartine, Dupont and a whole host
besides."
"How excited they look!" exclaimed the journalist. "Ah! Thiers
approaches them from the other end of the salon!"
"M. Thiers, like the worldly-wise and selfish man he is, has held
himself aloof from the banquet, and even declined the invitation
accepted by a hundred of his party; to-day he was absent from the
Chamber and to-night from the conclave, all with the aspiring, yet vain
hope, that the King will send for him to form a Ministry."
"And yet, in the Chamber, a few days ago, he said that he was of the
party of the revolution in Europe."
"True, but he added that he wished the revolution carried on by its
moderate supporters, and that he should do all he could to keep it in
the hands of the moderate party."
"'But if it should pass into the hands of a party not moderate,'
continued the crafty ex-Minister, 'I shall not abandon the cause of the
revolution. I shall be always of the party of the revolution.' But see,
he singles out Marrast, of all others!"
"And his old colleague of 'Le National' seems to give him no very
cordial reception," added the Deputy. "But let us move up and hear the
determination of the opposition relative to the banquet."
"That's the very question the little historian has just propounded to
the great journalist. Now for the answer."
"The opposition decide, Monsieur, to abandon the banquet," was the angry
reply of the editor to the ex-Minister.
"Indeed!" was the bland rejoinder; "and has a manifesto of this decision
been issued to the people?"
"It has; and it instantly called forth a counter manifesto from the
electoral committee of the Twelfth Arrondissement, expressing very
natural astonishment that, at the same time the opposition abandoned the
banquet, they had not abandoned their seats in the Chamber, and inviting
them so to do at once."
"And the Ministry?" anxiously asked M. Thiers.
"Will to-morrow be impeached, Monsieur!"
"Ah! indeed! indeed!" cried the smart little aspirant, gleefully
rubbing his hands.
At that moment General Lamoriciere, the brother-in-law of Thiers, who
owed so much to the house of Orleans, hastily approached.
"I come straight from the Tuileries," he said, with considerable
excitement. "General Jacqueminot has just issued an order of the day, as
commander-in-chief of the National Guard, appealing to them as the
constitutional protectors of the Throne to take no part in the banquet.
Orders have, also, been issued for the rappel to be beaten at dawn, in
the Quartier St. Honore, the scene of the contemplated procession. But