"You think so?" said the simple Bonhomme.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
ZOTIQUE'S MISGIVING.
At sunset of the day before the Election, Chamilly came over very tired from the Institution and ordered tea to be brought out on the lawn. Little Breboeuf sat with them; the visiting politicians also; and last, least, and highly delighted at the honor, Francois Vadeboncoeur dit Le Brun. To-morrow is the election day.
"How do we stand, Zotique?" Chamilly asked, with some air of fatigue. Zotique's duty of directing the actual carrying out of the campaign made him an authority on the "feel" of the constituency.
"Breboeuf will give you figures," replied he, reticently, for the struggle had proved grave. The Curé had almost succeeded, so far, in keeping his vow.
"Eh bien, ma brebis?"
"From the lists as Zotique has marked them I compute a majority of 28."
"Morbleu,—that's not comfortable!" exclaimed a young editor, fond of old oaths.
"But these estimations of Mr. Genest's prove surprisingly accurate," explained Chamilly.