tion might not be broken. Such was this mansion, peaceful and silent, of which the doors never creaked, the windows never rattled, the floors never groaned, the chimneys never roared, the weathercocks never grated, the furniture never squeaked, the locks never clanked, and the occupants never made more noise than their shadows. The god Harpocrates would certainly have chosen it for the Temple of Silence.
CHAPTER III.
In Which the Commissary Passauf Enters as Noisily as Unexpectedly
When the interesting conversation which has been narrated began, it was a quarter before three in the afternoon. It was at a quarter before four that van Tricasse lighted his enormous pipe, which could hold an ounce of tobacco, and it was at thirty-five minutes past five that he finished smoking it.
All this time the two comrades did not exchange a single word.
About six o'clock the counselor, who had a habit of speaking in a very summary manner, resumed in these words:
"So we decide"
"To decide nothing," replied the burgomaster.
"I think, on the whole, that you are right, van Tricasse."
"I think so, too, Niklausse. We will take steps with reference to the civil commissary when we have more light on the subject—later on. There is no need for a month yet."
"Nor even for a year," replied Niklausse, unfolding his pocket-handkerchief and calmly applying it to his nose.
There was another silence of nearly a quarter of an hour. Nothing disturbed this repeated pause in the conversation, not even the appearance of the house-dog, Lento, who, not less phlegmatic than his master, came to pay his respects to the parlor. Noble dog—a model for his race! Had he been made of pasteboard, with wheels on his paws, he would not have made less noise during his stay.
Towards eight o'clock, after Lotche had brought the antique lamp of polished glass, the burgomaster said to the counselor:
"We have no other urgent matter to consider?"
"No, van Tricasse; none that I know of."
"Have I not been told, though," asked the burgomaster, "that the tower of the Oudenarde gate is likely to tumble down?"
"Ah!" replied the counselor; "really, I should not be astonished if it fell on some passer-by any day."
"Oh! before such a misfortune happens I hope we shall have come to a decision on the subject of this tower."
"I hope so, van Tricasse."
"There are more pressing matters to decide."
"No doubt; the question of the leather-market, for instance."
The Burning Market
"What, is it still burning?"
"Still burning, and has been for the last three weeks."
"Have we not decided in council to let it burn?"
"Yes, van Tricasse—on your motion."
"Was not that the surest and simplest way to deal with it?"
"Without doubt."
"Well, let us wait. Is that all?"
"All," replied the counselor, scratching his head, as if to assure himself that he had not forgotten anything important.
"Ah!" exclaimed the burgomaster, "haven't you also heard something of an escape of water which threatens to inundate the low quarter of Saint Jacques?"
"I have. It is indeed unfortunate that this escape of water did not happen above the leather-market! It would naturally have checked the fire, and would thus have saved us a good deal of discussion."
"What can you expect, Niklausse? There is nothing so illogical as accidents. They are bound by no rules, and we cannot profit by one, as we might wish, to remedy another."
It took van Tricasse's companion some time to digest this fine observation.
"Well, but," resumed the Counselor Niklausse, after the lapse of some moments, "we have not spoken of our great affair!"
"What great affair? Have we, then, a great affair?" said the burgomaster.
"No doubt. About lighting the town."
"Oh, yes. If my memory serves me, you are referring to the lighting plan of Doctor Ox."
"Precisely."
"It is going on, Niklausse," replied the burgomaster. "They are already laying the pipes, and the works are entirely completed."
"Perhaps we have hurried a little in this matter," said the counselor, shaking his head.
"Perhaps. But our excuse is, that Doctor Ox bears the whole expense of his experiment. It will not cost us a sou."
"That, true enough, is our excuse. Moreover, we must advance with the age. If the experiment succeeds, Quiquendone will be the first town in Flanders to be lighted with the oxy—What is the gas called?"
"Oxyhydric gas."
"Well, oxyhydric gas, then."
Oxyhydric Gas Lighting for Quiquendone
At this moment the door opened, and Lotche came in to tell the burgomaster that his supper was ready.
Counselor Niklausse rose to take leave of van Tricasse, whose appetite had been stimulated by so many affairs discussed and decisions taken; and it was agreed that the council of notables should be convened after a reasonably long delay, to determine whether a decision should be provisionally arrived at with reference to the really urgent matter of the Oudenarde gate.
The two worthy administrators then directed their steps towards the street door, the one conducting the other. The counselor, having reached the last step, lighted a little lantern to guide him through the obscure streets of Quiquendone, which Doctor Ox had not yet lighted. It was a dark October night, and a light fog overshadowed the town.
Niklausse's preparations for departure consumed at least a quarter of an hour; for after having light-
