"I shall succeed, monsieur. First of all, give me the names of the
officers of the old army now living in Issoudun, who have not taken
sides with Maxence Gilet; I wish to make their acquaintance."
"Well, there's a captain of the artillery of the Guard, Monsieur
Mignonnet, a man about forty years of age, who was brought up at the
Ecole Polytechnique, and lives in a quiet way. He is a very honorable
man, and openly disapproves of Max, whose conduct he considers
unworthy of a true soldier."
"Good!" remarked the lieutenant-colonel.
"There are not many soldiers here of that stripe," resumed Monsieur
Hochon; "the only other that I know is an old cavalry captain."
"That is my arm," said Philippe. "Was he in the Guard?"
"Yes," replied Monsieur Hochon. "Carpentier was, in 1810,
sergeant-major in the dragoons; then he rose to be sub-lieutenant in
the line, and subsequently captain of cavalry."
"Giroudeau may know him," thought Philippe.
"This Monsieur Carpentier took the place in the mayor's office which
Gilet threw up; he is a friend of Monsieur Mignonnet."
"How can I earn my living here?"
"They are going, I think, to establish a mutual insurance agency in
Issoudun, for the department of the Cher; you might get a place in it,
but the pay won't be more than fifty francs a month at the outside."
"That will be enough."
At the end of a week Philippe had a new suit of clothes,--coat,
waistcoat, and trousers,--of good blue Elbeuf cloth, bought on credit,
to be paid for at so much a month; also new boots, buckskin gloves,
and a hat.
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