Planchet could not help laughing. "It is plain," replied he, "that if your forty men conceal themselves, and are not unskillful, they may hope not to be beaten: but you propose obtaining some result, do you not?"
"No doubt. This, then, in my opinion, is the plan to be proceeded upon in order quickly to replace his majesty Charles II. on his throne."
"Good!" said Planchet, increasing his attention; "let us see your plan. But in the first place it seems to me we are forgetting something."
"What is that?"
"We have set aside the nation, which prefers singing merry songs to psalms, and the army, which we will not fight; but the parliament remains, and that seldom sings."
"Nor does it fight. How is it, Planchet, that an intelligent man like yourself should take any heed of a set of brawlers who call themselves Rumps and Barebones? The parliament does not trouble me at all, Planchet."
"As soon as it ceases to trouble you, monsieur, let us pass on."
"Yes, and arrive at the result. You remember Cromwell, Planchet?"
"I have heard a great deal of talk about him.
"He was a rough soldier."
"And a terrible eater, moreover."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Why, at one gulp he swallowed all England."
"Well, Planchet, the evening before the day on which he swallowed England, if any one had swallowed M. Cromwell?"
"Oh, monsieur, it is one of the axioms of mathematics that the container must be greater than the contained."
"Very well! That is our affair, Planchet."
"But M. Cromwell is dead, and his container is now the tomb."
"My dear Planchet, I see with pleasure that you have not only become a mathematician, but a philosopher."
"Monsieur, in my grocery business I use much printed paper, and that instructs me."
"Bravo! You know then, in that case--for you have not learnt mathematics and philosophy without a little history--that after this Cromwell so great, there came one who was very little."
"Yes; he was named Richard, and he as done as you have, M. d'Artagnan--he has tendered his resignation."
"Very well said--very well! After the great man who is dead, after the little one who tendered his resignation, there came a third. This one is named Monk; he is an able general, considering he has never fought a battle; he is a skillful diplomatist, considering that he never speaks in public, and that having to say 'good-day' to a man, he meditates twelve hours, and ends by saying 'good night;' which makes people exclaim 'miracle!' seeing that it falls out correctly."