nt of him, behind the baroness's pale, malicious little face, his
mother, his mother whom he believed to be two hundred leagues away from
the terrible storm, stood leaning against the wall, gazing at him,
holding toward him her divine face streaming with tears, but proud and
radiant none the less in her Bernard's great success. For it was a
genuine success of sincere, eminently human emotion, which a few words
more would change into a triumph.--"Go on! Go on!" men shouted from all
sides of the Chamber, to reassure him, to encourage him. But Jansoulet
did not speak. And yet he had very little to say to justify himself:
"Calumny wilfully confused two names. My name is Bernard Jansoulet. The
other's name was Jansoulet Louis." Not another word.

But that was too much in his mother's presence, as she was still
ignorant of her oldest son's dishonor. It was too much for the family
respect and unity.

He fancied he could hear his old father's voice: "I am dying of shame,
my son."--Would not she die of shame too, if he were to speak? He met
his mother's smile with a sublime glance of renunciation; then he
continued in a dull voice and with a gesture of discouragement:

"Excuse me, Messieurs, this explanation is decidedly beyond my strength.
Order an investigation into my life, open to all and in the broad light
of day, for any one can understand my every act. I swear to you that you
will find nothing therein which should debar me from sitting among the
representatives of my country."

The amazement, the disappointment at that surrender, which seemed to all
the sudden downfall of great effrontery when brought to bay, were beyond
all bounds. There was a moment of excitement on the benches, the
confusion of a standing vote, which the Nabob watched listlessly in the
uncertain light from the stained glass windows, as the condemned man
watches the surging crowd from the platform of the scaffold; then, after
the suspense of a century which precedes a supreme moment, the president
announced amid profound silence, in the simplest manner imaginable:

"Monsieur Bernard Jansoulet's election is declared void."

Never was a man's life cut short with less solemnity or pother.

Mere Jansoulet, up yonder in her gallery, understood nothing except that
she could see gaps on the benches all around,--that people were getting
up and going away. Soon no one remained with her save the fat man and
the lady in the white hat, who were leaning over t