in by these planks. A ray of light
issuing from between the planks fell on the opposite wall, and lighted
up an old torn placard, on which could be read, "Asnieres. Water
tournaments. Grand ball."

"Have you another gun?" asked the last-maker of the taller of the two
workmen.

"If we had three guns we should be three men," answered the workman.

The little one added, "Do you think that the good will is wanting? There
are plenty of musicians, but there are no clarionets."

By the side of the wooden paling could be seen a little, narrow and low
door, which looked more like the door of a stall than the door of a
shop. The shop to which this door belonged was hermetically sealed. The
door seemed to be equally closed. The last-maker went up to it and
pushed it gently. It was open.

"Let us go in," he said.

I went in first, he followed me, and shut the door behind me. We were in
a room on the ground floor. At the end, on the left, a half-opened door
emitted the reflection of a light. The room was only lighted by this
reflection. A counter and a species of stove, painted in black and
white, could be dimly distinguished.

A short, half-suffocated, intermittent gurgling could be heard, which
seemed to come from an adjoining room on the same side as the light. The
last-maker walked quickly to the half-opened door. I crossed the room
after him, and we found ourselves in a sort of vast shed, lighted by one
candle. We were on the other side of the plank paling. There was only
the plank paling between ourselves and the barricade.

This species of shed was the ground floor in course of demolition. Iron
columns, painted red, and fixed into stone sockets at short distances
apart, supported the joists of the ceiling; facing the street, a huge
framework standing erect, and denoting the centre of the surrounding
paling, supported the great cross-beam of the first story, that is to
say, supported the whole house. In a corner were lying some masons'
tools, a heap of rubbish, and a large double ladder. A few straw-bottomed
chairs were scattered here and there. The damp ground served for the
flooring. By the side of a table, on which stood a candle in the midst
of medicine bottles, an old woman and a young girl of about eight years
old--the woman seated, the child squatting before a great basketful of
old linen--were making lint. The end of the room, which was lost in the
darkness, was carpeted with a litter of straw, on which three