where there would be no
oppression and no misery, the dream he had so often dreamed in the
solitude of his study.

Rafael was sitting at the head of the committee bench, somewhat apart
from his companions. They were giving him ample room, as bull-fighters
do their _matador_. He had bundles of documents and volumes piled up at
his seat, in case he should need to quote authorities in his reply to
the venerable orator.

He was studying the old man admiringly and in silence. What a strong,
sturdy spirit, as hard and cold and clear as ice! That veteran had
doubtless had his passions like other men. At moments, through his calm
impassive exterior, a romantic vehemence would seem to burn, a poetic
ardor, that politics had smothered, but which smouldered on as volcanic
fires lie dormant rumbling from time to time under the mantle of snow on
a mountain peak. But he had known how to adjust his life to duty; and
without belief in God, with the support of philosophy only, his virtue
had been strong enough to disarm his most violent enemies.

And a weakling, a dawdler like himself, must reply to a hero like
that!... Rafael began to be afraid; and to recover his spirits he swept
the hall with his eyes. What the regular hangers-on of the sessions
would have called a medium-sized house! A few deputies scattered about
the benches! But the public galleries were filled with spectators,
workingmen mostly, absolutely quiet, and all ears, as if they were
drinking in every word of the old republican! In the reserved seats,
just previously packed with curiosity-seekers interested in the set-to
scheduled for the opening of the session, only a few foreign tourists
were left. They were taking in everything--even the fantastic uniforms
of the mace-bearers; and they were determined not to leave until they
were put out. A few women of the so-called "parliament set," who came
every afternoon when there was a squabble on the program, were munching
caramels and staring in wonderment at the old man. There he was, the
arch enemy of law and order! The man whose name it was bad form to
mention at their afternoon teas! Who would have supposed he had such a
kindly, harmless face? How easily, with what naturalness and grace, he
wore his frock coat! Incredible!... In the diplomatic gallery a solitary
lady! She was extravagantly attired in a huge picture hat with black
plumes. Almost hidden behind her was a fair haired youth, his hair
parted in the middle,