"No use.... These are the little come-backs of fame.... And then, I know the source!" "Who?" "I am sure that it was inspired, if not written, by my colleague and competitor Saulvard.... Lemeunier de Saulvard, of the Sciences Morales.... I recognize his hand.... He wants the prize for his _History of the Freed Men in the Roman Empire_.... I am in his way.... He gets someone to vilify me.... It is a classical method.... One can only be sorry for the wretch and smile...." M. Raindal gave a painful smile, but his throat was obstructed by that rage, like bitter gall, which one feels under patent injustice. He spat out the word: "Obscene!" He paused awhile, then, his voice relieved, he repeated: "Obscene!... No, I had never heard that in the course of my career; yet I have seen much jealousy, smallness of mind and calumny among members of my profession.... If you knew what sewers run under what is called the pure regions of science!... And the filth that is poured down in them! Obscene!... After a career like mine!... The scoundrels!" He laughed disdainfully. "Ha! ha!... To call a man obscene who led an almost pure, blameless youth!... A man who has worked twelve hours a day for the last forty years.... It is all they have found.... See! I am laughing!... It is too amusing! It is too funny for words!" His brother Cyprien remained silent so as to allow full swing to this revolt, the vehemence of which was a delight to his own instincts. He pressed his brother's hand. "That's right! That's the way to speak.... I can see you are a true Raindal. You do not like to be goaded.... You kick.... That's right! I hope when you meet that person...." "I am seeing him to-night," M. Raindal said, putting a sudden damper on his eagerness. "To-night?" the ex-official muttered with surprise. "How?... Where?..." "At his house.... He is giving a dance...." "And you are going?" "Well, yes!... A marriage for Thérèse.... A young man, a young savant, is to be introduced to us." Cyprien laid a hand on the polished dome of his head and said dreamily: "Ah! ah! A match for my nephew." (He always called Thérèse his nephew because of her masculine ways.) "Good! That is a reason.... Well, I have an idea that my nephew will not accept that young savant.... However, you are right; one has to see.... But be cautious! Your Saulvard seems to me utterly worthless ... and I would not be inclined to trust anything that came from that quarter...." M. Raindal rose to his feet. "Don't worry. I shall look out.... Besides, you are wrong.... When his ambitions are not concerned Saulvard is not such a bad fellow...." Cyprien whistled incredulously: "Phew!... That may be.... Well, see you later ... seven o'clock." And he accompanied his brother to the top of the steps. The lamp-posts were lit outside when M. Raindal reached his home in the rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs.