The Baron presently went to call on the Marshal Prince de Wissembourg, whose powerful patronage was now his only chance. Having dwelt under his protection for five-and-thirty years, he was a visitor at all hours, and would be admitted to his rooms as soon as he was up. “Ah! How are you, my dear Hector?” said the great and worthy leader. “What is the matter? You look anxious. And yet the session is ended. One more over! I speak of that now as I used to speak of a campaign. And indeed I believe the newspapers nowadays speak of the sessions as parliamentary campaigns.” “We have been in difficulties, I must confess, Marshal; but the times are hard!” said Hulot. “It cannot be helped; the world was made so. Every phase has its own drawbacks. The worst misfortunes in the year 1841 is that neither the King nor the ministers are free to act as Napoleon was.” The Marshal gave Hulot one of those eagle flashes which in its pride, clearness, and perspicacity showed that, in spite of years, that lofty soul was still upright and vigorous. “You want me to so something for you?” said he, in a hearty tone. “I find myself under the necessity of applying to you for the promotion of one of my second clerks to the head of a room--as a personal favor to myself--and his advancement to be officer of the Legion of Honor.” “What is his name?” said the Marshal, with a look like a lightning flash. “Marneffe.” “He has a pretty wife; I saw her on the occasion of your daughter’s marriage.--If Roger--but Roger is away!--Hector, my boy, this is concerned with your pleasures. What, you still indulge--? Well, you are a credit to the old Guard. That is what comes of having been in the Commissariat; you have reserves!--But have nothing to do with this little job, my dear boy; it is too strong of the petticoat to be good business.” “No, Marshal; it is bad business, for the police courts have a finger in it. Would you like to see me go there?” “The devil!” said the Prince uneasily. “Go on!” “Well, I am in the predicament of a trapped fox. You have always been so kind to me, that you will, I am sure, condescend to help me out of the shameful position in which I am placed.” Hulot related his misadventures, as wittily and as lightly as he could. “And you, Prince, will you allow my brother to die of grief, a man you love so well; or leave one of your staff in the War Office, a Councillor of State, to live in disgrace. This Marneffe is a wretched creature; he can be shelved in two or three years.” “How you talk of two or three years, my dear fellow!” said the Marshal. “But, Prince, the Imperial Guard is immortal.”