icient
pay and a love of billiards and boiled wine made his future doubtful.
Like Fourchon, he cultivated the art of doing nothing, and expected his
fortune through some lucky but problematic chance. He hated the leading
society, but he had measured its power. He alone knew the middle-class
coalition organized by Gaubertin to its depths; and he continued to
sneer at the rich men of Soulanges and Ville-aux-Fayes, as if he alone
represented the opposition. Without money and not respected, he did not
seem a person to be feared professionally, and so Brunet, glad to have a
despised competitor, protected him and helped him along, to prevent him
selling his business to some eager young man, like Bonnac for instance,
who might force him, Brunet, to divide the patronage of the canton
between them.

"Thanks to those fellows, we keep the ball a-rolling," said Socquard.
"But folks are trying to imitate my boiled wine."

"Sue them," said Rigou, sententiously.

"That would lead too far," replied the innkeeper.

"Do your clients get on well together?"

"Tolerably, yes; sometimes they'll have a row, but that's only natural
for players."

All heads were at the window of the Soudry salon which looked to the
square. Recognizing the father of his daughter-in-law, Soudry came to
the portico to receive him.

"Well, comrade," said the mayor of Soulanges, "is Annette ill, that you
give us your company of an evening?"

Through an old habit acquired in the gendarmerie Soudry always went
direct to the point.

"No,--There's trouble brewing," replied Rigou, touching his right
fore-finger to the hand which Soudry held out to him. "I came to talk
about it, for it concerns our children in a way--"

Soudry, a handsome man dressed in blue, as though he were still a
gendarme, with a black collar, and spurs at his heels, took Rigou by the
arm and led him up to his imposing better-half. The glass door to the
terrace was open, and the guests were walking about enjoying the summer
evening, which brought out the full beauty of the glorious landscape
which we have already described.

"It is a long time since we have seen you, my dear Rigou," said Madame
Soudry, taking the arm of the ex-Benedictine and leading him out upon
the terrace.

"My digestion is so troublesome!" he replied; "see! my color is almost
as high as yours."

Rigou's appearance on the terrace was the sign for an explosion of
jovial greetings on the part of the assembled compa