levard de Magenta, with its prosaic tram-lines, its large, cheap
shops, its common _brasseries_ and spanning railway bridge, seemed a
place of promise; and as they passed on, ever mounting toward
Montmartre, his brain quickened to new joy, new curiosity in every
flaunting advertisement, every cobble-stone in the long steep way of the
Boulevard Barbes, the rue de la Nature, and the rue de Clignancourt,
until at length they emerged into the rue Andre de Sarte--that narrow
street, quaint indeed in its dark old houses and its small, mysterious
wine shops that savor of Italy or Spain.

They paused, at the corner of the rue Andre de Sarte, by the doorway of
an old, overcrowded curio shop--the curio shop that in time to come was
destined to become so familiar a landmark to them both, to stand
sentinel at the gateway of so many emotions.

The lights, the shadows, the effects were all uncertain in this strange
and fascinating neighborhood. High above them, white against the winter
sky, glimmered the domes of the Sacre-Coeur, looking down in symbolic
silence upon the restless city; to the left stretched the rue Ronsard,
with its deserted market and lonely pavement; to the right, the Escalier
de Sainte-Marie, picturesque as its name, wound its precipitous way
apparently to the very stars, while at their feet, creeping upward to
the threshold of the church, was the plantation of rocks, trees, and
holly bushes that in the mysterious darkness seemed aquiver with a
thousand whispered secrets. There was deep contrast here to the
excitement, the vivacity of the boulevards; it seemed as if some shadow
from the white domes above had given sanctuary to the spirit of the
place--the familiar spirit of the time-stained houses, the stone steps
worn by many feet, the dark, naked trees.

The boy's hand again pressed his companion's arm.

"What are those steps?" He pointed to the right.

"The Escalier de Sainte-Marie; they lead up to the rue Mueller, and, if
you desire it, to the Sacre-Coeur itself. Shall we climb?"

"But yes! Certainly!" The boy's voice was tense and eager. He hurried
forward, drawing his companion with him, and side by side they began the
mounting of the stone steps--those steps, flanked by the row of houses,
that rise one above the other, as if emulous to attain the skies.

Up they went, their ears attentive to the conflicting sounds that
drifted forth from the doorways, their nostrils assailed by the faintly
pungent sc