"Madame," continued Paul Vence, "I shall not say like Renan, my beloved master: 'What does Sirius care?' because somebody would reply with reason 'What does little Earth care for big Sirius?' But I am always surprised when people who are adult, and even old, let themselves be deluded by the illusion of power, as if hunger, love, and death, all the ignoble or sublime necessities of life, did not exercise on men an empire too sovereign to leave them anything other than power written on paper and an empire of words. And, what is still more marvellous, people imagine they have other chiefs of state and other ministers than their miseries, their desires, and their imbecility. He was a wise man who said: 'Let us give to men irony and pity as witnesses and judges.'" "But, Monsieur Vence," said Madame Martin, laughingly, "you are the man who wrote that. I read it." The two Ministers looked vainly in the theatre and in the corridors for the General. On the advice of the ushers, they went behind the scenes. Two ballet-dancers were standing sadly, with a foot on the bar placed against the wall. Here and there men in evening dress and women in gauze formed groups almost silent. Loyer and Martin-Belleme, when they entered, took off their hats. They saw, in the rear of the hall, Lariviere with a pretty girl whose pink tunic, held by a gold belt, was open at the hips. She held in her hand a gilt pasteboard cup. When they were near her, they heard her say to the General: "You are old, to be sure, but I think you do as much as he does." And she was pointing disdainfully to a grinning young man, with a gardenia in his button-hole, who stood near them. Loyer motioned to the General that he wished to speak to him, and, pushing him against the bar, said: "I have the pleasure to announce to you that you have been appointed Minister of War." Lariviere, distrustful, said nothing. That badly dressed man with long hair, who, under his dusty coat, resembled a clown, inspired so little confidence in him that he suspected a snare, perhaps a bad joke. "Monsieur Loyer is Keeper of the Seals," said Count Martin. "General, you cannot refuse," Loyer said. "I have said you will accept. If you hesitate, it will be favoring the offensive return of Garain. He is a traitor." "My dear colleague, you exaggerate," said Count Martin; "but Garain, perhaps, is lacking a little in frankness. And the General's support is urgent." "The Fatherland before everything," replied Lariviere with emotion. "You know, General," continued Loyer, "the existing laws are to be applied with moderation." He looked at the two dancers who were extending their short and muscular legs on the bar. Lariviere murmured: "The army's patriotism is excellent; the good-will of the chiefs is at the height of the most critical circumstances." Loyer tapped his shoulder. "My dear colleague, there is some use in having big armies."