“Commodore Dewey has destroyed the Spanish fleet in the port of Manilla. The Americans have not lost a man.”
This telegram caused much depression in the drawing-room. The only person who continued to look confident was Madame de Courtrai, who cried:
“It’s not true!”
“The telegram,” said M. Lerond, “is an American one.”
“Yes,” said M. de Brécé, “we must beware of false news.”
All endorsed this prudent view of things, and yet were aghast at the sudden vision of a fleet, blessed by the Pope, bearing the flag of His Catholic Majesty, and carrying on the prow of her vessels the names of the Virgin and the saints, disabled, shattered, and sunk by the guns of bacon merchants, sewing-machine manufacturers, and heretics, by a nation without kings, without princes, without a history, without national traditions, and without an army.
CHAPTER X
M. Bergeret’s affairs were worrying him; he was beginning to fear he might be asked to resign his position at the Faculté, when, to his surprise, he received the intimation that he had been appointed honorary professor there.