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"You will do it without him," replied Zotique, confidently. Chrysler looked closely at the approaching figure, growing larger and clearer. "Where is he Member for?" he asked. "Member for Hoang-ho in partibus infidelium," replied Zotique, sarcastically. Picault sauntered up with a smile of unfaltering genial sang-froid, bowed, removed his cigar, and addressed them.
"What is it that an auto-da-fé is?" a young man demanded from a corner. "You don't know auto-da-fes? A dish, my child. An auto-da-fé is Liberal broiled." The character of the room, at which Chrysler now had time to glance, explained itself by a large painting of that lion-and-unicorn-supporting -the-British-arms, which embellishes Courts of Justice.
A white-robed figure an acolyte passes; feebly shone upon by a lantern; the "young curé" follows, bearing the holy wafer, a ghostly procession; and Chrysler takes off his hat, for he recognizes it as the passing of the Host.
Chrysler breathed in the fresh draughts which swept across the wide stretches of river-view that lay open in bird-like perspective from the crest of the terraces on which the Dormillière côte, or countryside, was perched, and along which the road ran.
"Josephte, ma'amselle," said Chrysler very quietly and pleadingly, "do you not love François?" The blood swept over her forehead again, and changed it once more from white to red. The tears stopped in her eyes and she regarded him for a moment with an intense look. "François loves you," he proceeded. He went on: "Where is the difficulty? Is it not very cruel to deny François your love?
He caught sight of them, and rising, without altogether dropping his broadly humorous expression, extended an invitation to take his rocking-chair, which Chrysler accepted. Zotique was like the Mephistopheles he resembled, one of those who have been every where, seen much, done everything.
Chamilly went with Chrysler to it on the first morning of his stay in Dormillière, which was a Sunday.
When Madame withdrew, after the tea, he gave Mr. Chrysler a chair by the fireplace in the drawing-room end of the apartment, for it was a cool evening, and saying: "Do you mind this? It is a liking of mine," stepped over to the lamps and turned them down, throwing the light of the burning wood upon the pictures and objets d'art which adorned the apartment.
"Pardon me," said Chrysler, however, standing up, to the surprise of everybody. "Your Honor, I have another charge to bring against the prisoner, and I ask his re-arrest." The Honorable made a sign to the constable to stay Cuiller. "These bills," Chrysler said, holding out the bank notes which were found in the purse of Spoon, "are marked with the initials of François Le Brun's name.
"Believe me, sir, we shall yet learn how to have bright fire-sides on the shores of the Arctic." "And where is our world-work?" Chrysler asked, like one awakening. "Wherever there is world-work undone that we can reach to do."
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