something else; applause on an unusual note. As it faded away they heard the voice of Scaramouche ringing clear as a bell:
"And so you see, my dear M. Léandre, that when you speak of the Third Estate, it is necessary to be more explicit. What precisely is the Third Estate?"
"Nothing," said Léandre.
There was a gasp from the audience, audible in the wings, and then swiftly followed Scaramouche's next question:
"True. Alas! But what should it be?"
"Everything," said Léandre.
The audience roared its acclamations, the more violent because of the unexpectedness of that reply.
"True again," said Scaramouche. "And what is more, that is what it will be; that is what it already is. Do you doubt it?"
"I hope it," said the schooled Léandre.
"You may believe it," said Scaramouche, and again the acclamations rolled into thunder.
Polichinelle and Rhodomont exchanged glances: indeed, the former winked, not without mirth.
"Sacred name!" growled a voice behind them. "Is the scoundrel at his political tricks again?"
They turned to confront M. Binet. Moving with that noiseless tread of his, he had come up unheard behind them, and there he stood now in his scarlet suit of Pantaloon under a trailing bedgown, his little eyes glaring from either side of his false nose. But their attention was held by the voice of Scaramouche. He had stepped to the front of the stage.
"He doubts it," he was telling the audience. "But then this M. Léandre is himself akin to those who worship the worm-eaten idol of Privilege, and so he is a little afraid to believe a truth that is becoming apparent to all the world. Shall I convince him? Shall I tell him how a company of noblemen backed by their servants under arms—six hundred men in all—sought to dictate to the Third Estate of
