Of course, an impossible ambition. But so incoherent, so chaotic was the state of mind of the Anti-Semites fourteen years ago, that I refrained from suggesting that it was highly improbable President Loubet or his Ministers would invade M. Guérin’s bit of waste ground up there in the rue Condorcet. Nor was my host a man to stand ridicule. A flippant word from me, and he would have shown me the door. So I listened patiently to his wild, savage denunciations of the Jews—of Captain Dreyfus in particular, who was lying (burnt up with fever, broken and battered in everything except determination) in his cell on the Devil’s Island; whilst here, in Paris, the Cour de Cassation was deliberating whether there was sufficient “new” evidence to justify the prisoner being brought back to France and given a new trial. Rumours were flying about to the effect that the Court had already made up its mind to order the revision. Thus, fury of the Anti-Dreyfusards; frenzy of the Anti-Semites, and, in their newspapers, the statements that the Cour de Cassation had been “bought” by the Jews; that the Jews, being the masters of France, had “sold” the country to Germany; and that, therefore, the only thing to do with the Jews was to hang them on the lamp-posts of Paris. Particularly bloodthirsty and barbarous was M. Guérin’s weekly journal, _L’Anti-Juif_, which stood on the floor, in three or four stacks, of this extraordinary study. In it were published the name and address of every Jewish tradesman in Paris. Each column was headed with exhortation: “Français, N’achetez Rien Aux Juifs.” Then, hideous cartoons depicting the flight of the Jews along the boulevards and their panic and agony—and their massacre. “Now,” said M. Guérin, “you have seen the official organ of the Anti-Semitic League, and I could show you pamphlets and posters that are equally powerful. No League in Paris is so resolute, so strong, so efficiently organised. Such is our success that I am shortly removing to more spacious quarters. There we shall deliver Anti-Semitic lectures, and give Anti-Semitic plays—open to all, not a centime will be charged. Then, boxing and fencing classes, pistol practice, a library, a doctor and a solicitor on the premises—always, no charge. The Parisians, being thrifty, will flock to us. They will cry: ‘Here we get entertainment, medical and legal advice for nothing; it is admirable. Vive Guérin! Vive la France! À bas les Juifs!’ The Government will be furious. Loubet in the Élysée will shake in his shoes. And Lépine will shout: ‘We must arrest that _canaille_ Guérin!’ But let him come. I shall be armed more strongly than ever in my new quarters in the rue de Chabrol.” “A garden?” I ventured. “There are no gardens in the rue de Chabrol: but there are cellars,” grimly replied M. Guérin. “Come and see me there. You will be astonished. Au revoir.”