s of the Bonapartist temperament is a firm
belief in the power of the sword, and confidence in the superiority of
the military over civilians. Hulot laughed to scorn the Public
Prosecutor in Algiers, where the War Office is supreme. Man is always
what he has once been. How can the officers of the Imperial Guard
forget that time was when the mayors of the largest towns in the
Empire and the Emperor's prefects, Emperors themselves on a minute
scale, would come out to meet the Imperial Guard, to pay their
respects on the borders of the Departments through which it passed,
and to do it, in short, the homage due to sovereigns?

At half-past four the baron went straight to Madame Marneffe's; his
heart beat as high as a young man's as he went upstairs, for he was
asking himself this question, "Shall I see her? or shall I not?"

How was he now to remember the scene of the morning when his weeping
children had knelt at his feet? Valerie's note, enshrined for ever in
a thin pocket-book over his heart, proved to him that she loved him
more than the most charming of young men.

Having rung, the unhappy visitor heard within the shuffling slippers
and vexatious scraping cough of the detestable master. Marneffe opened
the door, but only to put himself into an attitude and point to the
stairs, exactly as Hulot had shown him the door of his private room.

"You are too exclusively Hulot, Monsieur Hulot!" said he.

The Baron tried to pass him, Marneffe took a pistol out of his pocket
and cocked it.

"Monsieur le Baron," said he, "when a man is as vile as I am--for you
think me very vile, don't you?--he would be the meanest galley-slave
if he did not get the full benefit of his betrayed honor.--You are for
war; it will be hot work and no quarter. Come here no more, and do not
attempt to get past me. I have given the police notice of my position
with regard to you."

And taking advantage of Hulot's amazement, he pushed him out and shut
the door.

"What a low scoundrel!" said Hulot to himself, as he went upstairs to
Lisbeth. "I understand her letter now. Valerie and I will go away from
Paris. Valerie is wholly mine for the remainder of my days; she will
close my eyes."

Lisbeth was out. Madame Olivier told the Baron that she had gone to
his wife's house, thinking that she would find him there.

"Poor thing! I should never have expected her to be so sharp as she
was this morning," thought Hulot, recalling Lisbeth's behavior as he