s to sacrifice or
suffering, I have sacrificed only my time and toil at the worst. I have
not been deemed worthy of suffering even a fine for a newspaper libel,
and my paper has never been thought worth suppression!"

"And what have I accomplished, Louis?" asked Marrast, gloomily. "My life
seems almost a blank."

"With Armand Carrel, you have for fifteen years been the champion of
Republicanism in France, and with you, as leaders, has all been
accomplished that now exists. When Carrel died, on you fell his mantle.
As editor of 'La Tribune,' your boldness and charging Casimir Perier and
Marshal Soult with connivance in Gisquet's scandalous frauds brought
upon you fine and imprisonment. Your boldness and patriotism during the
insurrection of the 5th and 6th of June, 1832, once more caused your
paper to be stopped and your presses to be sealed. In April, '34, your
press was again stopped, and you, with Godefroi Cavaignac, were thrown
into Sainte Pelagie, whence you so gallantly escaped, though to become
an exile in England. Again, in '35, you were sentenced to
transportation. So much for sufferings; as to sacrifices--why, you have
been utterly ruined by fines!"

"Well, Louis, well," was the sad answer, "granting all this, my
sacrifices and sufferings are only the more bitter from the fact of
having been utterly in vain, entirely useless. You, Louis, have been
wiser than I. Your journal is well named 'Bon Sens.'"

"Possibly wiser," was the reply, "and possibly less bold. But does not
discretion sometimes win what boldness would sacrifice? In rashly
struggling for all we sometimes lose all. Prudence and perseverance, my
dear Armand, are invaluable."

CHAPTER X.

THE COMMUNISTS.

At this moment the private door opened, and three men entered the
editorial sanctum.

Marrast quickly turned, and his friend was silent.

"Ha! Albert, Flocon, Rollin!" he cried. "Welcome, welcome! Our friend,
Louis Blanc, was just about wasting on me a sermon upon patience, but
now he'll have an audience worthy of the subject. Be seated and listen!"

"Patience!" exclaimed Flocon. "Well, I'm sure we need it."

"That we do, in our present low estate," echoed Rollin.

Albert said nothing, but smiled with sarcastic significance.

When the salutations were over and the party, all but Marrast, who
restlessly paced the room, were seated, Louis Blanc looked around on his
friends with a sad smile, and continued:

"Marrast is right, M