nd the powerful, the mighty of four days or a quarter of a century
and that, so long as influence existed in the world, there would be
courtiers and that these courtiers, eager for a crumb, would prevent the
stranger, that is to say, truth, from reaching the light, fearing that
this stranger might play the part of the lion and chase the flies away
from the honeycomb.

Thus, how much nausea and contempt he felt for that transient power
which in spite of himself was rendered useless! A power that placed him
at the mercy of the bawling of a colleague or an enemy, and even at the
mercy of that all-powerful master so readily dissatisfied: everybody. He
had seen, at too close quarters, the vile intrigues, the depressing
chafferings, the grinding of that political kitchen in which so many
people,--this Warcolier with his voluble rhetoric, this Granet with his
conceited smile of superiority,--were hungering to hold the handle of
the saucepan. He recalled a remark that Denis Ramel had often repeated
to him: "What is the use of putting one's self out in order to bask in
the sunshine? The best are in the shade."

He was seized with lawful indignation against his own ambitions, against
the lack of energy that prevented him from sweeping away all
obstacles,--men, and routine,--and he recalled with afflicting
bitterness his entry on public life, in the blaze of divine light, and
his dreams, his poor noble dreams! "A great minister! I will be a great
minister!"

"Ah! yes, indeed! one is a minister, that is all! And that is enough! It
is often too much! We shall see indeed what he will do, that Granet who
ought to do so much!"

Vaudrey laughed nervously.

"What he will do? Nothing! Nothing! Still nothing! That is very easy! To
do anything, one should be a great man and not a politician captivated
with the idea of reaching the summit of power. Ah! _parbleu!_ to be a
great man! 'That is the question.'"

He grew very excited over the proud rebellion of his old faith and
shattered hopes against the negative success he had obtained. Besides,
there was no reason for giving up the struggle. There was a council to
be held at the Elysee. He went there, but at this moment of disgust,
disgust of everything and himself, this palace like all the rest, seemed
to him to be gloomy and mean. An usher in black coat and white cravat,
wearing a chain around his neck, wandered up and down the antechamber,
according to custom, his shoes covered with