President is on our side."

The attitude and sentiments of the President of the Republic are explained by
the fact that one Dracophil proposed to seize Formose while another Dracophil

regarded him as a friend. Formose showed himself favourable to the Royalists,
whose habits he admired and imitated. If he smiled at the mention of the

Dragon's crest it was at the thought of putting it on his own head. He was
envious of sovereign power, not because he felt himself capable of exercising

it, but because he loved to appear so. According to the expression of a
Penguin chronicler, "he was a goose."

Prince des Boscenos maintained his proposal to march against Formose's palace
and the House of Parliament.

Count Clena was even still more energetic.
"Let us begin," said he, "by slaughtering, disembowelling, and braining the

Republicans and all partisans of the government. Afterwards we shall see what
more need be done."

M. de La Trumelle was a moderate, and moderates are always moderately opposed
to violence. He recognised that Count Clena's policy was inspired by a noble

feeling and that it was high-minded, but he timidly objected that perhaps it
was not conformable to principle, and that it presented certain dangers. At

last he consented to discuss it.
"I propose," added he, "to draw up an appeal to the people. Let us show who we

are. For my own part I can assure you that I shall not hide my flag in my
pocket."

M. Bigourd began to speak.
"Gentlemen, the Penguins are dissatisfied with the new order because it

exists, and it is natural for men to complain of their condition. But at the
same time the Penguins are afraid to change their government because new

things alarm them. They have not known the Dragon's crest and, although they
sometimes say that they regret it, we must not believe them. It is easy to see

that they speak in this way either without thought or because they are in an
ill-temper. Let us not have any illusions about their feelings towards

ourselves. They do not like us. They hate the aristocracy both from a base
envy and from a generous love of equality. And these two united feelings are

very strong in a people. Public opinion is not against us, because it knows
nothing about us. But when it knows what we want it will not follow us. If we

let it be seen that we wish to destroy democratic government and restore the
Dragon's crest, who will be our partisans? Only the butcher-boys and the

little shopkeepers of Alca. And could we even count on them to the end? They
are dissatisfied, but at the bottom of their hearts they are Republicans. They

are more anxious to sell their cursed wares than to see Crucho again. If we
act openly we shall only cause alarm.

"To make people sympathise with us and follow us we must make them believe
that we want, not to overthrow the Republic, but, on the contrary, to restore

it, to cleanse, to purify, to embellish, to adorn, to beautify, and to
ornament it, to render it, in a word, glorious and attractive. Therefore, we

ought not to act openly ourselves. It is known that we are not favourable to
the present order. We must have recourse to a friend of the Republic, and, if

we are to do what is best, to a defender of this government. We have plenty to
choose from. It would be well to prefer the most popular and, if I dare say

so, the most republican of them. We shall win him over to us by flattery, by
presents, and above all by promises. Promises cost less than presents, and are

worth more. No one gives as much as he who gives hopes. It is not necessary
for the man we choose to be of brilliantintellect. I would even prefer him to

be of no great ability. Stupid people show an inimitable grace in roguery. Be
guided by me, gentlemen, and overthrow the Republic by the agency of a

Republican. Let us be prudent. But prudence does not excludeenergy. If you
need me you will find me at your disposal."

This speech made a great impression upon those who heard it. The mind of the
pious Agaric was particularly impressed. But each of them was anxious to

appoint himself to a position of honour and profit. A secret government was
organised of which all those present were elected active members. The Duke of

Ampoule, who was the great financier of the party, was chosen treasurer and
charged with organising funds for the propaganda.

The meeting was on the point of coming to an end when a rough voice was heard
singing an old air:

Boscenos est un gros cochon;
On en va faire des andouilles

Des saucisses et du jambon
Pour le reveillon des pauv' bougres.

It had, for two hundred years, been a well-known song in the slums of Alca.
Prince Boscenos did not like to hear it. He went down into the street, and,

perceiving that the singer was a workman who was placing some slates on the
roof of a church, he politely asked him to sing something else.

"I will sing what I like," answered the man.
"My friend, to please me. . . ."

"I don't want to please you."
Prince Boscenos was as a rule good-tempered, but he was easily angered and a

man of great strength.
"Fellow, come down or I will go up to you," cried he, in a terrible voice.

As the workman, astride on his coping, showed no sign of budging, the prince
climbed quickly up the staircase of the tower and attacked the singer. He gave

him a blow that broke his jaw-bone and sent him rolling into a water-spout. At
that moment seven or eight carpenters, who were working on the rafters, heard

their companion's cry and looked through the window. Seeing the prince on the
coping they climbed along a ladder that was leaning on the slates and reached

him just as he was slipping into the tower. They sent him, head foremost, down
the one hundred and thirty-seven steps of the spiralstaircase.

IV. VISCOUNTESS OLIVE
The Penguins had the finest army in the world. So had the Porpoises. And it

was the same with the other nations of Europe. The smallest amount of thought
will prevent any surprise at this. For all armies are the finest in the world.

The second finest army, if one could exist, would be in a notoriously inferior
position; it would be certain to be beaten. It ought to be disbanded at once.

Therefore, all armies are the finest in the world. In France the illustrious
Colonel Marchand understood this when, before the passage of the Yalou, being

questioned by some journalists about the Russo-Japanese war, he did not
hesitate to describe the Russian army as the finest in the world, and also the

Japanese. And it should be noticed that even after suffering the most terrible
reverses an army does not fall from its position of being the finest in the

world. For if nations ascribe their victories to the ability of their generals
and the courage of their soldiers, they always attribute their defeats to an

inexplicable fatality. On the other hand, navies are classed according to the
number of their ships. There is a first, a second, a third, and so on. So that

there exists no doubt as to the result of naval wars.
The Penguins had the finest army and the second navy in the world. This navy

was commanded by the famous Chatillon, who bore the title of Emiralbahr, and
by abbreviation Emiral. It is the same word which, unfortunately in a corrupt

form, is used to-day among several European nations to designate the highest
grade in the naval service. But as there was but one Emiral among the

Penguins, a singularprestige, if I dare say so, was attached to that rank.
The Emiral did not belong to the nobility. A child of the people, he was loved

by the people. They were flattered to see a man who sprang from their own
ranks holding a position of honour. Chatillon was good-looking and fortune

favoured him. He was not over-addicted to thought. No event ever disturbed his
serene outlook.

The Reverend Father Agaric, surrendering to M. Bigourd's reasons and
recognising that the existing government could only be destroyed by one of its

defenders, cast his eyes upon Emiral Chatillon. He asked a large sum of money
from his friend, the Reverend Father Cornemuse, which the latter handed him

with a sigh. And with this sum he hired six hundred butcher boys of Alca to
run behind Chatillon's horse and shout, "Hurrah for the Emiral!" Henceforth

Chatillon could not take a single step without being cheered.
Viscountess Olive asked him for a private interview. He received her at the

Admiralty* in a room decorated with anchors, shells, and grenades.
* Or better, Emiralty.

She was discreetly dressed in greyish blue. A hat trimmed with roses covered
her pretty, fair hair, Behind her veil her eyes shone like sapphires. Although

she came of Jewish origin there was no more fashionable woman in the whole
nobility. She was tall and well shaped; her form was that of the year, her

figure that of the season.
"Emiral," said she, in a delightful voice, "I cannot conceal my emotion from

you. . . . It is very natural . . . before a hero."
"You are too kind. But tell me, Viscountess, what brings me the honour of your

visit."
"For a long time I have been anxious to see you, to speak to you. . . . So I

very willinglyundertook to convey a message to you."
"Please take a seat."