gars and walking up and
down. This daily promenade is one of the petty pleasures of government
officials in the provinces when they happen to be on good terms with one
another.

After they had made a few turns, Simon Giguet came up and joined them
saying to the sub-prefect with a mysterious air:--

"You ought to be faithful to an old comrade who wishes to get you the
rosette of an officer and a prefecture."

"You are beginning your political career betimes," said Antonin,
laughing. "You are trying to corrupt me, rapid puritan!"

"Will you support me?"

"My dear fellow, you know very well that Bar-sur-Aube votes here. Who
can guarantee a majority under such circumstances? My colleague of
Bar-sur-Aube would complain of me if I did not unite my efforts with his
in support of the government. Your promise is conditional; whereas my
dismissal would be certain."

"But I have no competitors."

"You think so," said Antonin, "but some one is sure to turn up; you may
rely on that."

"Why doesn't my aunt come, when she knows I am on a gridiron!" exclaimed
Giguet, suddenly. "These three hours are like three years!"

His secret had escaped him and he now admitted to his friend that Madame
Marion had gone on his behalf to old Grevin with a formal proposal for
Cecile's hand.

The pair had now reached the Brienne road opposite to the Mulet
hostelry. While the lawyer looked down the street towards the bridge his
aunt would have to cross, the sub-prefect examined the gullies made by
the rain in the open square. Arcis is not paved. The plains of Champagne
furnish no material fit for building, nor even pebbles large enough for
cobble-stone pavements. One or two streets and a few detached places
are imperfectly macadamized and that is saying enough to describe their
condition after a rain. The sub-prefect gave himself an appearance
of occupation by apparently exercising his thoughts on this important
object; but he lost not a single expression of suffering on the anxious
face of his companion.

At this moment, the stranger was returning from the Chateau de
Cinq-Cygne, where he had apparently passed the night. Goulard resolved
to clear up, himself, the mystery wrapped about the Unknown, who was
physically enveloped in an overcoat of thick cloth called a _paletot_,
then the fashion. A mantle, thrown across his knees for a covering, hid
the lower half of his body, while an enormous muffler of red cashmere
covered his neck and hea