and　much　as　they　admired　him；　something　in　the　subconsciousness　of　these　Gauls　was　irritated　at　his　pleading　for　peace　in　so　peaceful　a　manner。　　To　their　party　throughout　Europe；　however；　Paul　Hirsch　was　a　saint　of　science。　　His　large　and　daring　cosmic　theories　advertised　his　austere　life　and　innocent；　if　somewhat　frigid；　morality；　he　held　something　of　the　position　of　Darwin　doubled　with　the　position　of　Tolstoy。　　But　he　was　neither　an　anarchist　nor　an　antipatriot；　his　views　on　disarmament　were　moderate　and　evolutionary　the　Republican　Government　put　considerable　confidence　in　him　as　to　various　chemical　improvements。　　He　had　lately　even　discovered　a　noiseless　explosive；　the　secret　of　which　the　Government　was　carefully　guarding。
  His　house　stood　in　a　handsome　street　near　the　Elysee　a　street　which　in　that　strong　summer　seemed　almost　as　full　of　foliage　as　the　park　itself；　a　row　of　chestnuts　shattered　the　sunshine；　interrupted　only　in　one　place　where　a　large　cafe　ran　out　into　the　street。　　Almost　opposite　to　this　were　the　white　and　green　blinds　of　the　great　scientist's　house；　an　iron　balcony；　also　painted　green；　running　along　in　front　of　the　first…floor　windows。　　Beneath　this　was　the　entrance　into　a　kind　of　court；　gay　with　shrubs　and　tiles；　into　which　the　two　Frenchmen　passed　in　animated　talk。
  The　door　was　opened　to　them　by　the　doctor's　old　servant；　Simon；　who　might　very　well　have　passed　for　a　doctor　himself；　having　a　strict　suit　of　black；　spectacles；　grey　hair；　and　a　confidential　manner。　　In　fact；　he　was　a　far　more　presentable　man　of　science　than　his　master；　Dr　Hirsch；　who　was　a　forked　radish　of　a　fellow；　with　just　enough　bulb　of　a　head　to　make　his　body　insignificant。　　With　all　the　gravity　of　a　great　physician　handling　a　prescription；　Simon　handed　a　letter　to　M。　Armagnac。　　That　gentleman　ripped　it　up　with　a　racial　impatience；　and　rapidly　read　the　following：
  I　cannot　come　down　to　speak　to　you。　　There　is　a　man　in　this　house　whom　I　refuse　to　meet。　　He　is　a　Chauvinist　officer；　Dubosc。　　He　is　sitting　on　the　stairs。　　He　has　been　kicking　the　furniture　about　in　all　the　other　rooms；　I　have　locked　myself　in　my　study；　opposite　that　cafe。　　If　you　love　me；　go　over　to　the　cafe　and　wait　at　one　of　the　tables　outside。　　I　will　try　to　send　him　over　to　you。　　I　want　you　to　answer　him　and　deal　with　him。　　I　cannot　meet　him　myself。　　I　cannot：　I　will　not。
  There　is　going　to　be　another　Dreyfus　case。
  P。　HIRSCH
  M。　Armagnac　looked　at　M。　Brun。　　M。　Brun　borrowed　the　letter；　read　it；　and　looked　at　M。　Armagnac。　　Then　both　betook　themselves　briskly　to　one　of　the　little　tables　under　the　chestnuts　opposite；　where　they　procured　two　tall　glasses　of　horrible　green　absinthe；　which　they　could　drink　apparently　in　any　weather　and　at　any　time。　　Otherwise　the　cafe　seemed　empty；　except　for　one　soldier　drinking　coffee　at　one　table；　and　at　another　a　large　man　drinking　a　small　syrup　and　a　priest　drinking　nothing。
  Maurice　Brun　cleared　his　throat　and　said：　　〃Of　course　we　must　help　the　master　in　every　way；　but〃
  There　was　an　abrupt　silence；　and　Armagnac　said：　　〃He　may　have　excellent　reasons　for　not　meeting　the　man　himself；　but〃
  Before　either　could　complete　a　sentence；　it　was　evident　that　the　invader　had　been　expelled　from　the　house　opposite。　　The　shrubs　under　the　archway　swayed　and　burst　apart；　as　that　unwelcome　guest　was　shot　out　of　them　like　a　cannon…ball。
  He　was　a　sturdy　figure　in　a　small　and　tilted　Tyrolean　felt　hat；　a　figure　that　had　indeed　something　generally　Tyrolean　about　it。　　The　man's　shoulders　were　big　and　broad；　but　his　legs　were　neat　and　active　in　knee…breeches　and　knitted　stockings。　　His　face　was　brown　like　a　nut；　he　had　very　bright　and　restless　brown　eyes；　his　dark　hair　was　brushed　back　stiffly　in　front　and　cropped　close　behind；　outlining　a　square　and　powerful　skull；　and　he　had　a　huge　black　moustache　like　the　horns　of　a　bison。　　Such　a　substantial　head　is　generally　based　on　a　bull　neck；　but　this　was　hidden　by　a　big　coloured　scarf；　swathed　round　up　the　man's　ears　and　falling　in　front　inside　his　jacket　like　a　sort　of　fancy　waistcoat。　　It　was　a　scarf　of　strong　dead　colours；　dark　red　and　old　gold　and　purple；　probably　of　Oriental　fabrication。　　Altogether　the　man　had　something　a　shade　barbaric　about　him；　more　like　a　Hungarian　squire　than　an　ordinary　French　officer。　　His　French；　however；　was　obviously　that　of　a　native；　and　his　French　patriotism　was　so　impulsive　as　to　be　slightly　absurd。　　His　first　act　when　he　burst　out　of　the　archway　was　to　call　in　a　clarion　voice　down　the　street：　　〃Are　there　any　Frenchmen　here？〃　as　if　he　were　calling　for　Christians　in　Mecca。
  Armagnac　and　Brun　instantly　stood　up；　but　they　were　too　late。　　Men　were　already　running　from　the　street　corners；　there　was　a　small　but　ever…clustering　crowd。　　With　the　prompt　French　instinct　for　the　politics　of　the　street；　the　man　with　the　black　moustache　had　already　run　across　to　a　corner　of　the　cafe；　sprung　on　one　of　the　tables；　and　seizing　a　branch　of　chestnut　to　steady　himself；　shouted　as　Camille　Desmoulins　once　shouted　when　he　scattered　the　oak…leaves　among　the　populace。
  〃Frenchmen！〃　he　volleyed；　〃I　cannot　speak！　　God　help　me；　that　is　why　I　am　speaking！　　The　fellows　in　their　filthy　parliaments　who　learn　to　speak　also　learn　to　be　silentsilent　as　that　spy　cowering　in　the　house　opposite！　　Silent　as　he　is　when　I　beat　on　his　bedroom　door！　　Silent　as　he　is　now；　though　he　hears　my　voice　across　this　street　and　shakes　where　he　sits！　　Oh；　they　can　be　silent　eloquently　the　politicians！　　But　the　time　has　come　when　we　that　cannot　speak　must　speak。　　You　are　betrayed　to　the　Prussians。　　Betrayed　at　this　moment。　　Betrayed　by　that　man。　　I　am　Jules　Dubosc；　Colonel　of　Artillery；　Belfort。　　We　caught　a　German　spy　in　the　Vosges　yesterday；　and　a　paper　was　found　on　hima　paper　I　hold　in　my　hand。　　Oh；　they　tried　to　hush　it　up；　but　I　took　it　direct　to　the　man　who　wrote　itthe　man　in　that　house！　　It　is　in　his　hand。　　It　is　signed　with　his　initials。　　It　is　a　direction　for　finding　the　secret　of　this　new　Noiseless　Powder。　　Hirsch　invented　it；　Hirsch　wrote　this　note　about　it。　　This　note　is　in　German；　and　was　found　in　a　German's　pocket。　　‘Tell　the　man　the　formula　for　powder　is　in　grey　envelope　in　first　drawer　to　the　left　of　Secretary's　desk；　War　Office；　in　red　ink。　　He　must　be　careful。　　P。H。'〃
  He　rattled　short　sentences　like　a　quick…firing　gun；　but　he　was　plainly　the　sort　of　man　who　is　either　mad　or　right。　　The　mass　of　the　crowd　was　Nationalist；　and　already　in　threatening　uproar；　and　a　minority　of　equally　angry　Intellectuals；　led　by　Armagnac　and　Brun；　only　made　the　majority　more　militant。
  〃If　this　is　a　military　secret；〃　shouted　Brun；　〃why　do　you　yell　about　it　in　the　street？〃
  〃I　will　tell　you　why　I　do！〃　roared　Dubosc　above　the　roaring　crowd。　　〃I　went　to　this　man　in　straight　and　civil　style。　　If　he　had　any　explanation　it　could　have　been　given　in　complete　confidence。　　He　refuses　to　explain。　　He　refers　me　to　two　strangers　in　a　cafe　as　to　two　flunkeys。　　He　has　thrown　me　out　of　the　house；　but　I　am　going　back　into　it；　with　the　people　of　Paris　behind　me！〃
  A　shout　seemed　to　shake　the　very　facade　of　mansions　and　two　stones　flew；　one　breaking　a　window　above　the　balcony。　　The　indignant　Colonel　plunged　once　more　under　the　archway　and　was　heard　crying　and　thundering　inside。　　Every　instant　the　human　sea　grew　wider　and　wider；　it　surged　up　against　the　rails　and　steps　of　the　traitor's　house；　it　was　already　certain　that　the　place　would　be　burst　into　like　the　Bastille；　when　the　broken　french　window　opened　and　Dr　Hirsch　came　out　on　the　balcony。　　For　an　instant　the　fury　half　turned　to　laughter；　for　he　was　an　absurd　figure　in　such　a　scene。　　His　long　bare　neck　and　sloping　shoulders　were　the　shape　of　a　champagne　bottle；　but　that　was　the　only　festive　thing　about　him。　　His　coat　hung　on　him　as　on　a　peg；　he　wore　his　carrot…coloured　hair　long　and　weedy；　his　cheeks　and　chin　were　fully　fringed　with　one　of　those　irritating　beards　that　begin　far　from　the　mouth。　　He　was　very　pale；　and　he　wore　blue　spectacles。
  Livid　as　he　was；　he　spoke　with　a　sort　of　prim　decision；　so　that　the　mob　fell　silent　in　the　middle　of　his　third　sentence。
  〃。。。only　two　things　to　say　to　you　now。　　The　first　is　to　my　foes；　the　second　to　my　friends。　　To　my　foes　I　say：　　It　is　true　I　will　not　meet　M。　Dubosc；　though　he　is　storming　outside　this　very　room。　　It　is　true　I　have　asked　two　other　men　to　confront　him　for　me。　　And　I　will　tell　you　why！　　Because　I　will　not　and　must　not　see　him　because　it　would　be　against　all　rules　of　dignity　and　honour　to　see　him。　　Before　I　am　triumphantly　cleared　before　a　court；　there　is　another　arbitration　this　gentleman　owes　me　as　a　gentleman；　and　in　referring　him　to　my　seconds　I　am　strictly〃
  Armagnac　and　Brun　were　waving　their　hats　wildly；　and　even　the　Doctor's　enemies　roared　applause　at　this　unexpected　defiance。　　Once　more　a　few　sentences　were　inaudible；　but　they　could　hear　him　say：　　〃To　my　friendsI　myself　should　always　prefer　weapons　purely　intellectual；　and　to　these　an　evolved　humanity　will　certainly　confine　itself。　　But　our　own　most　precious　truth　is　the　fundamental　force　of　matter　and　heredity。　　My　books　are　su