t reign all homes were repulsive brothels or horrible
bandit caves.

"Fine, Brull, very good," grunted the minister, his elbows stretched
forward over his desk, delighted to hear his own ideas echoing from the
young man's mouth.

The orator rested for a moment, with his glance sweeping the galleries
now bright with the electric lighting. The woman in the diplomatic
section had stopped fanning herself. She was following him closely. Her
eyes met his.

Of a sudden Rafael nearly fell to his seat. Those eyes!... Perhaps an
astonishing resemblance! But no; it was she--she was smiling to him with
that same jesting, mocking smile of their earlier acquaintance!

He felt like the bird writhing on the tree unable to free itself from
the hypnotic stare of the serpent coiled near the trunk. Those
sarcastic, mischievous eyes had upset all his train of thought. He tried
to finish in some way or other, to end his speech as soon as possible.
Every minute was an added torment to him; he imagined he could hear the
mute gibes that mouth must be uttering at his expense.

Again he looked at the clock; in fifteen minutes more he would be
through. And he spurted on at a mad pace, with a hurried voice,
forgetting the devices he had thought of to prolong the peroration,
dumping them out all in a heap--anything to get through! "The
Concordate... sacred obligations toward the clergy ... their services
of old ... promises of close friendship with the Pope ... the generous
father of Spain ... in short, we cannot reduce the budget by a _centimo_
and the committee stands, by its proposals without accepting a single
amendment."

As he sat down, perspiring, excited, wiping his congested face
energetically, his bench companions gathered around him congratulating
him, shaking his hands. He was every inch an orator! He should have gone
deeper into the matter and taken even more time! He shouldn't have been
so modest!

And from the bench below came the grunt of the minister:

"Very good, very good. You said exactly what I would have said."

The old revolutionist arose to make a short rebuttal, repeating the
contentions of his original speech, of which no denial had been
attempted.

"I'm quite tired," sighed Rafael, in reply to the felicitations.

"You can go out if you wish," said the minister. "I think I'll answer
the rebuttal myself. It's a courtesy due to so old a deputy."

Rafael raised his eyes toward the diplomatic gallery. It was empt