es were levelled at the large proscenium box, empty until
then, which some one had just entered and had taken his seat there, both
elbows on the velvet rail, opera-glass in hand, in ominous solitude.

The Nabob had grown twenty years older in ten days. Those impulsive
Southern natures, rich as they are in enthusiastic outbursts, in
irresistible spurts of flame, collapse more utterly than others. Since
his rejection by the Chamber the poor fellow had remained shut up in
his own room, with the curtains drawn, refusing to see the daylight or
to cross the threshold beyond which life awaited him, engagements he had
entered into, promises made, a wilderness of protests and summonses. The
Levantine having gone to some watering-place, attended by her masseur
and her negresses, absolutely indifferent to the ruin of the
family,--Bompain, the man in the fez, aghast amid the constant demands
for money, being utterly at a loss to know how to approach his
unfortunate employer, who was always in bed and turned his face to the
wall as soon as any one mentioned business to him,--the old mother was
left alone to struggle with the disaster, with the limited, guileless
knowledge of a village widow, who knows what a stamped paper is, and a
signature, and who considers honor the most precious possession on
earth. Her yellow cap appeared on every floor of the great mansion,
overlooking the bills, introducing reforms among the servants, heedless
of outcries and humiliations. At every hour in the day the good woman
could be seen striding along Place Vendome, gesticulating, talking to
herself, saying aloud: "Bah! I'll go and see the bailiff." And she never
consulted her son except when it was indispensable, and then only in a
few concise words, careful to avoid looking at him. To arouse Jansoulet
from his torpor nothing less would suffice than a despatch from Paul de
Gery at Marseille, announcing his arrival with ten millions. Ten
millions, that is to say, failure averted, a possibility of standing
erect once more, of beginning life anew. And behold our Southerner,
rebounding from the depths to which he had fallen, drunk with joy and
hope. He ordered the windows to be thrown open, newspapers to be
brought. What a magnificent opportunity that first night of _Revolte_
would afford him to show himself to the Parisians, who believed that he
had gone under, to re-enter the great eddying whirlpool through the
folding doors of his box at the Nouveautes!