"
In order to sound his brother, Aristide, who did not dare to appear
openly uneasy, contented himself with asking: "Did you read my article
yesterday? What do you think of it?"
Eugene lightly shrugged his shoulders. "You're a simpleton, brother,"
was his sole reply.
"Then you think Vuillet right?" cried the journalist, turning pale; "you
believe in Vuillet's triumph?"
"I!--Vuillet----"
He was certainly about to add, "Vuillet is as big a fool as you are."
But, observing his brother's distorted face anxiously extended towards
him, he experienced sudden mistrust. "Vuillet has his good points," he
calmly replied.
On parting from his brother, Aristide felt more perplexed than before.
Eugene must certainly have been making game of him, for Vuillet was
really the most abominable person imaginable. However, he determined to
be prudent and not tie himself down any more; for he wished to have his
hands free should he ever be called upon to help any party in strangling
the Republic.
Eugene, on the morning of his departure, an hour before getting into the
diligence, took his father into the bedroom and had a long conversation
with him. Felicite, who remained in the drawing-room, vainly tried to
catch what they were saying. They spoke in whispers, as if they feared
lest a single word should be heard outside. When at last they quitted
the bedroom they seemed in high spirits. After kissing his father and
mother, Eugene, who usually spoke in a drawling tone, exclaimed with
vivacity: "You have understood me, father? There lies our fortune.
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