husband, who could doubt? And under the trees, wherever they could find
a favourable spot, my men lay down on the grass, and most of them fell
asleep. My eyes were heavy enough, but responsibility drives away rest.
I had but one nap of five minutes' duration, leaning against a tree,
when it occurred to me that Jacques Richard, whom I sent under escort
half-drunk to the tent, was not the most admirable companion for that
poor visionary Lecamus, who had been accommodated there. I roused
myself, therefore, though unwillingly, to see whether these two, so
discordant, could agree.

I met Lecamus at the tent-door. He was coming out, very feeble and
tottering, with that dazed look which (according to me) has always been
characteristic of him. He had a bundle of papers in his hand. He had
been setting in order his report of what had happened to him, to be
submitted to the Maire. 'Monsieur,' he said, with some irritation
(which I forgave him), 'you have always been unfavourable to me. I owe
it to you that this unhappy drunkard has been sent to disturb me in my
feebleness and the discharge of a public duty.'

'My good Monsieur Lecamus,' said I, 'you do my recollection too much
honour. The fact is, I had forgotten all about you and your public duty.
Accept my excuses. Though indeed your supposition that I should have
taken the trouble to annoy you, and your description of that
good-for-nothing as an unhappy drunkard, are signs of intolerance which
I should not have expected in a man so favoured.'

This speech, though too long, pleased me, for a man of this species, a
revolutionary (are not all visionaries revolutionaries?) is always, when
occasion offers, to be put down. He disarmed me, however, by his
humility. He gave a look round. 'Where can I go?' he said, and there was