"No; but in the short space of one hour
you will enjoy the spectacle—the rare and
magnificent spectacle—of beholding that
gigantic horse entirely devoured by the rats
of Montfaucon, who, be it known to you, are
the most voracious and the most ferocious
creatures on the face of the globe. Every
preliminary measure has been arranged.
And, now, let those who love me, follow
me!"

His excited followers marched on
fearlessly through the treacherous darkness and
the yawning wheel-ruts. They beguiled the
time by pleasing talk about the increasing
sale of horseflesh at Montfaucon, and the
culinary capabilities of the same raw material.

"Horseflesh sold! horseflesh eaten!"
exclaimed Balzac, to whom hippophagy was a
greater novelty than it would have been had
he survived to the present day. "What a
horrible perversion of taste it will be, to
return to cannibalism through the bye-road
of horse-eating! If they eat the horse
to-day, they will eat the horseman to-morrow.
There is only the thickness of a saddle
between the two repasts."

Over the greasy, spongy grounds, rendered
still more spongy and greasy by the previous
rains, the adventurous expedition wended its
way, headed by the General of Public
Salubrity, towards the part of the establishment
where the spectacle had been prepared. A
dozen men employed on the place preceded
them with a degree of mysterious
circumspection, each having a lighted resin torch in
his right hand, and a long ladder on his left
shoulder; four others, having ladders only,
followed with the silence of conspirators.
The night and the torch-light cast a Catiline-
like hue over the mute but steady-stepping
band. It suggested recollections of
Samlancay, who was conducted to Montfaucon
exactly thus, with an escort of flambeaux,
to be hanged, in the reign of Francis the
First, for the good pleasure of his excellent
sister, Madame d'Angoulême. By the side
of the present party there trotted a pack of
dingy dogs, of the same colour as the cloudy
night, who had their own private reasons for
joining the company besides the affection
they bore to their masters. They were
mastiffs and bull-dogs descended, by careful
crossing, from the most formidable and
famous Saxon and English races; with
square angular heads, short ears, prominent
and bloodshot eyes, teeth of iron, and
elephantine feet and legs. If one of them only
strayed out of the line, a hard kick in the
ribs brought him back again to his place;
but, speedy as was his obedience, he found
time, as he re-entered the ranks, to show a
double row of teeth ready to devour his
Mentor. Indeed, had the dogs been unanimous
and so inclined, in five minutes they
could have torn the whole expedition, guides
and visitors, to atoms, leaving hardly a
recognisable scrap to be picked up afterwards.

They soon reached the foot of a circular
wall, or nearly circular; for nothing here
presents a regular form or a decided plan.
The very substance of things differs from
ordinary reality. The earth has the
inconsistency of sponge; the mud, the fluidity of
water; the water, the thickness of mud; the
hillocks scattered over the soil are friable as
sand; the cottages of the keepers and workmen
are tumble-down heaps of tottering
stones; the five ponds inclosed within the
limits of the establishment, have the desolate
aspect of five inundations; and the only way
to breathe is to hold your breath. The
ladders were placed against the wall; and,
after a difficult ascent, the party and their
dozen torch-bearers took their places on
the top of the wall. Before and below
them was a vast inclosure appropriated
to the slaughter of condemned horses.
Heaps of bones scattered here and there,
indicated this funereal destination. It
required a few minutes to accustom the
eyes to the gloomy scene before they could
well make out its details. The bottom of
this ill-paved tub was traversed by long and
irregular stone gutters, all of which radiated
towards the circumscribing wall, on reaching
which they were closed by iron doors
consisting of perpendicular bars, so placed as to
allow liquid matters to escape, but preventing
the passage of solid substances. The spectators
continue to wait on the top of their wall.

Brissot-Thivars palpitated with impatience
and anxiety; would his drama succeed or
fail? The curtain was now about to rise.
Dr. Gentil sat astride on the wall, breathing
the beneficent smoke of a cigar, as an
antidote to the powerful emanations from the
theatre of action.

One of the iron gates in the wall opened.
Four men immediately entered, dragging
after them, with ropes, the dead horse, the
hero of the fête, the principal actor who has
been so impatiently expected. As soon as
they had rapidly disengaged the poor
creature from its last connection with human
society, they left it naked on the stones and
retreated hastily, slamming the iron gate
behind them. The overture was played; the
piece now began. Brissot-Thivars looked at
Balzac; Balzac looked at Brissot-Thivars;
this great dramatic author (Brissot is meant
in the present instance), and this great public
were to form their judgment of each other's
powers. They had to decide, mutually,
whether the one was up to the other's mark.

At all the iron gates at the end of the
gutters, and doubtless from other unseen
vent-holes, there instantly appeared several
rats, attracted by the mighty feast. They were
the scouts of the army in ambuscade. A few
individuals, detached from this first platoon,
advanced on the tips of their toes to within a
few yards of the carcase ; and there they
turned by common consent their sharp