The next day he went to the end of the Wood of Conils to visit the good Father Cornemuse. He found the monk in his laboratory pouring a golden-coloured liquor into a still. He was a short, fat, little man, with vermilion-tinted cheeks and an elaborately polished bald head. His eyes had ruby-coloured pupils like a guinea-pig’s. He graciously saluted his visitor and offered him a glass of the St. Orberosian _liqueur_, which he manufactured, and from the sale of which he gained immense wealth. Agaric made a gesture of refusal. Then, standing on his long feet and pressing his melancholy hat against his stomach, he remained silent. “Take a seat,” said Cornemuse to him. Agaric sat down on a rickety stool, but continued mute. Then the monk of Conils inquired: “Tell me some news of your young pupils. Have the dear children sound views?” “I am very satisfied with them,” answered the teacher. “It is everything to be nurtured in sound principles. It is necessary to have sound views before having any views at all, for afterwards it is too late. . . . Yes, I have great grounds for comfort. But we live in a sad age.” “Alas!” sighed Cornemuse. “We are passing through evil days. . . .” “Times of trial.” “Yet, Cornemuse, the mind of the public is not so entirely corrupted as it seems.” “Perhaps you are right.” “The people are tired of a government that ruins them and does nothing for them. Every day fresh scandals spring up. The Republic is sunk in shame. It is ruined.” “May God grant it!” “Cornemuse, what do you think of Prince Crucho?” “He is an amiable young man and, I dare say, a worthy scion of an august stock. I pity him for having to endure the pains of exile at so early an age. Spring has no flowers for the exile, and autumn no fruits. Prince Crucho has sound views; he respects the clergy; he practises our religion; besides, he consumes a good deal of my little products.” “Cornemuse, in many homes, both rich and poor, his return is hoped for. Believe me, he will come back.” “May I live to throw my mantle beneath his feet!” sighed Cornemuse. Seeing that he held these sentiments, Agaric depicted to him the state of people’s minds such as he himself imagined them. He showed him the nobles and the rich exasperated against the popular government; the army refusing to endure fresh insults; the officials willing to betray their chiefs; the people discontented, riot ready to burst forth, and the enemies of the monks, the agents of the constituted authority, thrown into the wells of Alca. He concluded that it was the moment to strike a great blow.