as the
raiment of Marguerite, an old gardener who was gathering up the fallen
leaves saluted his little mistress with a smile and, with his hand on
his rake and hat in hand, spoke to her with the gentle gaiety of old men
who are not overburdened with their thoughts. But she paid no heed to
him. With her little hand like to a star she sought her nurse's breast.
As I hurried away with grief in my heart, the nurse resumed her walk
and I heard the sound of the dead leaves sighing sorrowfully beneath her
steps.

[Illustration: 058]

[Illustration: 060]

10th July

The President of the Chamber rises and says: "The motion proposed by
Messrs. ------ and ------ is now put."

The Prime Minister, without quitting his seat says: "The Government does
not assent to the motion."

The President rings his bell and says: "A ballot has been demanded. A
ballot will therefore be taken. Those in favour of Messrs. ------ and
------'s motion must place a white paper in the urn; those who are
against it, a blue paper."

There was a great movement in the hall. The deputies poured out in a
disorderly mob into the corridors, while the ushers passed the white
metal urn along the tiers of seats. The corridors were full of the
sound of shuffling feet, and of shouting and gesticulating people. Grave
looking young men and excited old ones went passing by. The air was
pierced with the sound of voices calling out figures:

"Eleven votes."

"No, nine."

"They are being checked."

"Eight against."

"No, not at all; eight for."

"What, the amendment is carried?"

"Yes."

"The Government is beaten?"

"Yes."

"Ah!"

The President's bell is heard in the corridors.

Slowly the hall fills again.

The President standing up with a paper in his hand rings his bell for
the last time and says:

"The following is the result of the ballot on the motion proposed by
Messrs. ------ and ------. Number of votes 470; for the motion 239 ;
against 231. The motion is carried."

There is an immense sensation. The Ministers get up and leave their
seats. Two or three friends shake them timidly by the hand. It's all
over, they are beaten. They go under and I with them. I no longer count.
I make up my mind to it. To say that I am happy would be to go too
far. But it spells the end of my worries and bothers and toils. I have
regained my freedom, but not voluntarily. Repose and liberty, I've got
them back again, but it is to my defeat that I