“_Mais_, you jus' wait; I goin' tell you. I fin they do know. Fidèle take he sol'ier-papers, an' he go see _le chef_” (here Sorel rose, and acted Fidèle). “Fidèle, 'e show 'is papers to _le chef_; 'e say, 'Now you boun' tell me why _le bon gouvernement_, w'at 's been my frien', bounce me now.' 'E say _le chef_ boun' to tell 'im,--_il faut absolument!_ 'E say 'e won' go, way if _le chef_ don' tell 'im; an' you know, no man can't scare our Fidèle!” “Very well,” I said; “what did the collector, the _chef_ tell him? Fidèle is too lame, I suppose?” “_Mais, non_,” with a suspicious smile. “_Le chef_, he mos' cry,--yas, sar,--an' 'e say 'e ain' got no trouble 'gainst Fidèle; _la république_, she ain' got no trouble 'gainst Fidèle. 'E say 'e di'n want Fidèle to go; _le gouvernement_, she d'n want 'im to go. _Mais_, 'e say, 'e can't help hisself; _le gouvernement_, she can't help herself. Yas, sar. Then Fidèle know w'at evarybody been tellin' us was true,--'e 'Boss,' 'e make 'im go!” And Sorel sat back in his chair. “Now, I ax you one time more,” he resumed: “_qu'est-ce que c'est qu'un 'Boss'?_” What could I say! How could I explain, offhand, to this stranger, the big boss, the little boss, the State boss, the ward boss, the county boss, all burrowing underneath our theoretical government! How could I explain to him that Fidèle's department in the custom-house had been allotted to a Congressman about to run for a second term, who needed it to control a few more ward-meetings,--needed, in the third ward caucus, those very French votes which Carron had been shrewd enough to steal away and organize! What could I say to Sorel which he, innocent as he was, would not misconstrue as inconsistent with our past glorifications of our republic! What did I say! I do not know. I only remember that he interrupted me, harshly and abruptly, as he rose to go. “You an' me got great _pitié_, ain' we,” he said, “for _notre France, la pauvre France_, 'cause she got so many folks w'at _tourbillonnent sous la surface,--les Orléanistes les Bonapartistes_; don' we say so? _Mais, il n'y en a pas, ici_,--you know, we ain' got none here; don' we say so? We ain' got no _factionnaires_ here! _Mais non!_” Then, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper: “_Votre bonne république,_” he said,--“_c'est une république du théâtre!_” He had hardly closed the door behind him, when he opened it again, and put in his head, and with his hard, mocking laugh, demanded, “_Qu'est-ce que c'est qu'un 'Boss'?_” And as he walked down the hall, I could still hear his scornful laughter.