s, and I will respect theirs!"

That was all for that day.

As soon as Madame de Meroul entered the parlor, the next morning, she
noticed in the middle of the table three newspapers which made her start
the Voltaire, the Republique-Francaise and the Justice. Immediately
Joseph Mouradour, still in blue, appeared on the threshold, attentively
reading the Intransigeant. He cried:

"There's a great article in this by Rochefort. That fellow is a wonder!"

He read it aloud, emphasizing the parts which especially pleased him, so
carried away by enthusiasm that he did not notice his friend's entrance.
Monsieur de Meroul was holding in his hand the Gaulois for himself, the
Clarion for his wife.

The fiery prose of the master writer who overthrew the empire, spouted
with violence, sung in the southern accent, rang throughout the peaceful
parsons seemed to spatter the walls and century-old furniture with a hail
of bold, ironical and destructive words.

The man and the woman, one standing, the other sitting, were listening
with astonishment, so shocked that they could not move.

In a burst of eloquence Mouradour finished the last paragraph, then
exclaimed triumphantly:

"Well! that's pretty strong!"

Then, suddenly, he noticed the two sheets which his friend was carrying,
and he, in turn, stood speechless from surprise. Quickly walking toward
him he demanded angrily:

"What are you doing with those papers?"

Monsieur de Meroul answered hesitatingly:

"Why--those--those are my papers!"

"Your papers! What are you doing--making fun of me? You will do me
the pleasure of reading mine; they will limber up your ideas, and as for
yours--there! that's what I do with them."

And before his astonished host could stop him, he had seized the two
newspapers and thrown them out of the window. Then he solemnly handed the
Justice to Madame de Meroul, the Voltaire to her husband, while he sank
down into an arm-chair to finish reading the Intransigeant.

The couple, through delicacy, made a pretense of reading a little, they
then handed him back the Republican sheets, which they handled gingerly,
as though they might be poisoned.

He laughed and declared:

"One week of this regime and I will have you converted to my ideas."

In truth, at the end of a week he ruled the house. He had closed the door
against the priest, whom Madame de Meroul had to visit secretly; he had
forbidden the Gaulois and the Clarion to be brought into the