t
of so much trouble and money, to whose feet an inexorable fatality was
precipitating him.

The Hemerlingues were waiting for this, following to its last stage this
humiliating exit, which crushes the unseated member with some of the
shame and fear of a dismissal. Then, when the Nabob had disappeared,
they looked at each other with a silent laugh, and left the gallery
before the old woman had dared to ask them anything, warned by her
instinct of their secret hostility. Left alone, she gave all her
attention to a new speech, persuaded that her son's affairs were still
in question. They spoke of an election, of a scrutiny, and the poor
mother leaning forward in her red hood, wrinkling her great eyebrows,
would have religiously listened to the whole of the report of the
Sarigue election, if the attendant who had introduced her had not come
to say that it was finished and she had better go away. She seemed very
much surprised.

"Indeed! Is it over?" said she, rising almost regretfully.

And quietly, timidly:

"Has he--has he won?"

It was innocent, so touching that the attendant did not even dream of
smiling.

"Unfortunately, no, madame. M. Jansoulet has not won. But why did he
stop in that way? If it is true that he never came to Paris, and that
another Jansoulet did everything they accuse him of, why did he not say
so?"

The old mother, turning pale, leaned on the balustrade of the staircase.
She had understood.

Bernard's brusque interruption on seeing her, the sacrifice he had made
to her so simply--that noble glance as of a dying animal, came to her
mind, and the shame of the elder, the favourite child, mingled itself
with Bernard's disaster--a double-edged maternal sorrow, which tore her
whichever way she turned. Yes, yes, it was on her account he would not
speak. But she would not accept such a sacrifice. He must come back at
once and explain himself before the deputies.

"My son, where is my son?"

"Below, madame, in his carriage. It was he who sent me to look for you."

She ran before the attendant, walking quickly, talking aloud, pushing
aside out of her way the little black and bearded men who were
gesticulating in the passages. After the waiting-hall she crossed a
great round antechamber where servants in respectful rows made a living
wainscotting to the high, blank wall. From there she could see through
the glass doors, the outside railing, the crowd in waiting, and among
the other vehicles, th