Valmond did not stir, but looked steadily at De la Riviere, and said
slowly, dramatically, yet with a strange genuineness also:
"The spirit of France, monsieur, the spirit of France looks not forward
only, but backward, for her inspiration. It is as ready for action now as
when the old order was dragged from Versailles to Paris, and in Paris to
the guillotine, when France got a principle and waited, waited--"
He did not finish his sentence, but threw back his head with a sort of
reflective laugh.
"Waited for what?" asked the young Seigneur, trying to conquer his
dislike.
"For the Man!" came the quick reply.
The avocat rubbed his hands in pleasure. He instantly divined one who
knew his subject, though he talked this melodramatically: a thing not
uncommon among the habitants and the professional story-tellers, but
scarcely the way of the coterie.
"Ah, yes, yes," he said, "for--? monsieur, for--?" He paused, as if to
give himself the delight of hearing their visitor speak.
"For Napoleon," was the abrupt reply.
"Ah, yes, dear Lord, yes--a Napoleon--of--of the Empire. France can only
cherish an idea when a man is behind it, when a man lives it, embodies
it.
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