nd so the thought that all Europe was transformed into a
vast camp filled the General with anger and disgust. He sighed for the
old times when men fought for the pleasure of the thing, just as they
hunted; whereas nowadays people were convinced that they would
exterminate one another at the very first engagement.

"But surely it wouldn't be an evil if war should disappear," Pierre
gently remarked.

This somewhat angered the General. "Well, you'll have pretty nations if
people no longer fight," he answered, and then trying to show a practical
spirit, he added: "Never has the art of war cost more money than since
war itself has become an impossibility. The present-day defensive peace
is purely and simply ruining every country in Europe. One may be spared
defeat, but utter bankruptcy is certainly at the end of it all. And in
any case the profession of arms is done for. All faith in it is dying
out, and it will soon be forsaken, just as men have begun to forsake the
priesthood."

Thereupon he made a gesture of mingled grief and anger, almost cursing
that parliament, that Republican legislature before him, as if he
considered it responsible for the future extinction of warfare. But
little Massot was wagging his head dubiously, for he regarded the subject
as rather too serious a one for him to write upon. And, all at once, in
order to turn the conversation into another channel, he exclaimed: "Ah!
there's Monseigneur Martha in the diplomatic gallery beside the Spanish
Ambassador. It's denied, you know, that he intends to come forward as a
candidate in Morbihan. He's far too shrewd to wish to be a deputy. He
already pulls the strings which set most of the Catholic deputies who
have 'rallied' to the Republican Government in motion."

Pierre himself had just noticed Monseigneur Martha's smiling face. And,
somehow or other, however modest might be the prelate's demeanour, it
seemed to him that he really played an important part in what was going
on. He could hardly take his eyes from him. It was as if he expected that
he would suddenly order men hither and thither, and direct the whole
march of events.

"Ah!" said Massot again. "Here comes Mege. It won't be long now before
the sitting begins."

The hall, down below, was gradually filling. Deputies entered and
descended the narrow passages between the benches. Most of them remained
standing and chatting in a more or less excited way; but some seated
themselves and raised the