crumbling　Empire　the　young　and　radiant　Republic　arises；　picking
  up　your　broken　sword。〃
  He　awaited　applause。　But　there　was　no　voice；　no　sound。　The
  bewildered　peasants　remained　silent。　And　the　bust；　with　its
  pointed　mustaches　extending　beyond　the　cheeks　on　each　side；　the
  bust；　so　motionless　and　well　groomed　as　to　be　fit　for　a
  hairdressers　sign；　seemed　to　be　looking　at　M。　Massarel　with　a
  plaster　smile；　a　smile　ineffaceable　and　mocking。
  They　remained　thus　face　to　face；　Napoleon　on　the　chair；　the
  doctor　in　front　of　him　about　three　steps　away。　Suddenly　the
  Commander　grew　angry。　What　was　to　be　done？　What　was　there　that
  would　move　this　people；　and　bring　about　a　definite　victory　in
  opinion？　His　hand　happened　to　rest　on　his　hip　and　to　come　in
  contact　there　with　the　butt　end　of　his　revolver；　under　his　red
  sash。　No　inspiration；　no　further　word　would　come。　But　he　drew　his
  pistol；　advanced　two　steps；　and；　taking　aim；　fired　at　the　late
  monarch。　The　ball　entered　the　forehead；　leaving　a　little；　black
  hole；　like　a　spot；　nothing　more。　There　was　no　effect。　Then　he
  fired　a　second　shot；　which　made　a　second　hole；　then；　a　third；　and
  then；　without　stopping；　he　emptied　his　revolver。　The　brow　of
  Napoleon　disappeared　in　white　powder；　but　the　eyes；　the　nose；　and
  the　fine　points　of　the　mustaches　remained　intact。　Then；
  exasperated；　the　doctor　overturned　the　chair　with　a　blow　of　his
  fist　and；　resting　a　foot　on　the　remainder　of　the　bust　in　a
  position　of　triumph；　he　shouted：　〃So　let　all　tyrants　perish！〃
  Still　no　enthusiasm　was　manifest；　and　as　the　spectators　seemed　to
  be　in　a　kind　of　stupor　from　astonishment；　the　Commander　called　to
  the　militiamen：　〃You　may　now　go　to　your　homes。〃　And　he　went
  toward　his　own　house　with　great　strides；　as　if　he　were　pursued。
  His　maid；　when　he　appeared；　told　him　that　some　patients　had　been
  waiting　in　his　office　for　three　hours。　He　hastened　in。　There　were
  the　two　varicose…vein　patients；　who　had　returned　at　daybreak；
  obstinate　but　patient。
  The　old　man　immediately　began　his　explanation：　〃This　began　by　a
  feeling　like　ants　running　up　and　down　the　legs。〃
  THE　ARTIST
  〃Bah！　Monsieur；〃　the　old　mountebank　said　to　me；　〃it　is　a　matter
  of　exercise　and　habit；　that　is　all！　Of　course；　one　requires　to　be
  a　little　gifted　that　way　and　not　to　be　butter…fingered；　but　what
  is　chiefly　necessary　is　patience　and　daily　practice　for　long；
  long　years。〃
  His　modesty　surprised　me　all　the　more；　because　of　all　performers
  who　are　generally　infatuated　with　their　own　skill；　he　was　the
  most　wonderfully　clever　one　I　had　met。　Certainly　I　had　frequently
  seen　him；　for　everybody　had　seen　him　in　some　circus　or　other；　or
  even　in　traveling　shows；　performing　the　trick　that　consists　of
  putting　a　man　or　woman　with　extended　arms　against　a　wooden
  target；　and　in　throwing　knives　between　their　fingers　and　round
  their　heads；　from　a　distance。　There　is　nothing　very　extraordinary
  in　it；　after　all；　when　one　knows　THE　TRICKS　OF　THE　TRADE；　and
  that　the　knives　are　not　the　least　sharp；　and　stick　into　the　wood
  at　some　distance　from　the　flesh。　It　is　the　rapidity　of　the
  throws；　the　glitter　of　the　blades；　and　the　curve　which　the
  handles　make　toward　their　living　object；　which　give　an　air　of
  danger　to　an　exhibition　that　has　become　commonplace；　and　only
  requires　very　middling　skill。
  But　here　there　was　no　trick　and　no　deception；　and　no　dust　thrown
  into　the　eyes。　It　was　done　in　good　earnest　and　in　all　sincerity。
  The　knives　were　as　sharp　as　razors；　and　the　old　mountebank
  planted　them　close　to　the　flesh；　exactly　in　the　angle　between　the
  fingers。　He　surrounded　the　head　with　a　perfect　halo　of　knives；
  and　the　neck　with　a　collar　from　which　nobody　could　have
  extricated　himself　without　cutting　his　carotid　artery；　while；　to
  increase　the　difficulty；　the　old　fellow　went　through　the
  performance　without　seeing；　his　whole　face　being　covered　with　a
  close　mask　of　thick　oilcloth。
  Naturally；　like　other　great　artists；　he　was　not　understood　by　the
  crowd；　who　confounded　him　with　vulgar　tricksters；　and　his　mask
  only　appeared　to　them　a　trick　the　more；　and　a　very　common　trick
  into　the　bargain。
  〃He　must　think　us　very　stupid；〃　they　said。　〃How　could　he　possibly
  aim　without　having　his　eyes　open？〃
  And　they　thought　there　must　be　imperceptible　holes　in　the
  oilcloth；　a　sort　of　latticework　concealed　in　the　material。　It　was
  useless　for　him　to　allow　the　public　to　examine　the　mask　for
  themselves　before　the　exhibition　began。　It　was　all　very　well　that
  they　could　not　discover　any　trick；　but　they　were　only　all　the
  more　convinced　that　they　were　being　tricked。　Did　not　the　people
  know　that　they　ought　to　be　tricked？
  I　had　recognized　a　great　artist　in　the　old　mountebank；　and　I　was
  quite　sure　that　he　was　altogether　incapable　of　any　trickery。　I
  told　him　so；　while　expressing　my　admiration　to　him；　and　he　had
  been　touched　by　my　open　admiration　and　above　all　by　the　justice　I
  had　done　him。　Thus　we　became　good　friends；　and　he　explained　to
  me；　very　modestly；　the　real　trick　which　the　crowd　do　not
  understand；　the　eternal　trick　contained　in　these　simple　words：
  〃To　be　gifted　by　nature　and　to　practice　every　day　for　long；　long
  years。〃
  He　had　been　especially　struck　by　the　certainty　which　I　expressed
  that　any　trickery　must　become　impossible　to　him。　〃Yes；〃　he　said
  to　me；　〃quite　impossible！　Impossible　to　a　degree　which　you　cannot
  imagine。　If　I　were　to　tell　you！　But　where　would　be　the　use？〃
  His　face　clouded　over；　and　his　eyes　filled　with　tears。　I　did　not
  venture　to　force　myself　into　his　confidence。　My　looks；　however；
  were　not　so　discreet　as　my　silence；　and　begged　him　to　speak；　so
  he　responded　to　their　mute　appeal。
  〃After　all；〃　he　said；　〃why　should　I　not　tell　you　about　it？　You
  will　understand　me。〃　And　he　added；　with　a　look　of　sudden
  ferocity：　〃She　understood　it；　at　any　rate！〃
  〃Who？〃　I　asked。
  〃My　strumpet　of　a　wife；〃　he　replied。　〃Ah！　Monsieur；　what　an
  abominable　creature　she　wasif　you　only　knew！　Yes；　she
  understood　it　too　well；　too　well；　and　that　is　why　I　hate　her　so；
  even　more　on　that　account；　than　for　having　deceived　me。　For　that
  is　a　natural　fault；　is　it　not；　and　may　be　pardoned？　But　the　other
  thing　was　a　crime；　a　horrible　crime。〃
  The　woman；　who　stood　against　the　wooden　target　every　night　with
  her　arms　stretched　out　and　her　finger　extended；　and　whom　the　old
  mountebank　fitted　with　gloves　and　with　a　halo　formed　of　his
  knives；　which　were　as　sharp　as　razors　and　which　he　planted　close
  to　her；　was　his　wife。　She　might　have　been　a　woman　of　forty；　and
  must　have　been　fairly　pretty；　but　with　a　perverse　prettiness；　she
  had　an　impudent　mouth；　a　mouth　that　was　at　the　same　time　sensual
  and　bad；　with　the　lower　lip　too　thick　for　the　thin；　dry　upper
  lip。
  I　had　several　times　noticed　that　every　time　he　planted　a　knife　in
  the　board；　she　uttered　a　laugh；　so　low　as　scarcely　to　be　heard；
  but　which　was　very　significant　when　one　heard　it；　for　it　was　a
  hard　and　very　mocking　laugh。　I　had　always　attributed　that　sort　of
  reply　to　an　artifice　which　the　occasion　required。　It　was
  intended；　I　thought；　to　accentuate　the　danger　she　incurred　and
  the　contempt　that　she　felt　for　it；　thanks　to　the　sureness　of　the
  thrower's　hands；　and　so　I　was　very　much　surprised　when　the
  mountebank　said　to　me：
  〃Have　you　observed　her　laugh；　I　say？　Her　evil　laugh　which　makes
  fun　of　me；　and　her　cowardly　laugh　which　defies　me？　Yes；　cowardly；
  because　she　knows　that　nothing　can　happen　to　her；　nothing；　in
  spite　of　all　she　deserves；　in　spite　of　all　that　I　ought　to　do　to
  her；　in　spite　of　all　that　I　WANT　to　do　to　her。〃
  〃What　do　you　want　to　do？〃
  〃Confound　it！　Cannot　you　guess？　I　want　to　kill　her。〃
  〃To　kill　her；　because　she　has〃
  〃Because　she　has　deceived　me？　No；　no；　not　that；　I　tell　you　again。
  I　have　forgiven　her　for　that　a　long　time　ago；　and　I　am　too　much
  accustomed　to　it！　But　the　worst　of　it　is　that　the　first　time　I
  forgave　her；　when　I　told　her　that　all　the　same　I　might　some　day
  have　my　revenge　by　cutting　her　throat；　if　I　chose；　without
  seeming　to　do　it　on　purpose；　as　if　it　were　an　accident；　mere
  awkwardness〃
  〃Oh！　So　you　said　that　to　her？〃
  〃Of　course　I　did；　and　I　meant　it。　I　thought　I　might　be　able　to　do
  it；　for　you　see　I　had　the　perfect　right　to　do　so。　It　was　so
  simple；　so　easy；　so　tempting！　Just　think！　A　mistake　of　less　than
  half　an　inch；　and　her　skin　would　be　cut　at　the　neck　where　the
  jugular　vein　is；　and　the　jugular　would　be　severed。　My　knives　cut
  very　well！　And　when　once　the　jugular　is　cutgood…bye。　The　blood
  would　spurt　out；　and　one；　two；　three　red　jets；　and　all　would　be
  over；　she　would　be　dead；　and　I　should　have　had　my　revenge！〃
  〃That　is　true；　certainly；　horribly　true！〃
  〃And　without　any　risk　to　me；　eh？　An　accident；　that　is　all；　bad
  luck；　one　of　those　mistakes　which　happen　every　day　in　our
  business。　What　could　they　accuse　me　of？　Whoever　would　think　of
  accusing　me；　even