sing less loud," said Ninny Moulin.

"Then, by a general rule," answered sententiously the pupil of the great
painter, "if lodger or landlord ask for silence, tradition bids us reply
by an infernal uproar, destined to drown all his remonstrances. Such, at
least," added the scapegrace, modestly, "are the foreign relations that
I have always seen observed between neighboring powers."

This remark was received with general laughter and applause. During the
tumult, Morok questioned one of the waiters, and then exclaimed in a
shrill tone, which rose above the clamor: "I demand a hearing!"

"Granted!" cried the others, gayly. During the silence which followed
the exclamation of Morok, the noise was again heard; it was this time
quicker than before.

"The lodger is innocent," said Morok, with a strange smile, "and would
be quite incapable of interfering with your enjoyment."

"Then why does he keep up that knocking?" said Ninny Moulin, emptying
his glass.

"Like a deaf man who has lost his ear-horn?" added the young artist.

"It is not the lodger who is knocking" said Morok, in a sharp, quick
tone; "for they are nailing him down in his coffin." A sudden and
mournful silence followed these words.

"His coffin no, I am wrong," resumed Morok; "her coffin, I should say,
or more properly their coffin; for, in these pressing times, they put
mother and child together."

"A woman!" cried PLEASURE, addressing the writer; "is it a woman that is
dead?"

"Yes, ma'am; a poor young woman about twenty years of age," answered the
waiter in a sorrowful tone. "Her little girl, that she was nursing, died
soon after--all in less than two hours. My master is very sorry that
you ladies and gents should be disturbed in this way; but he could not
foresee this misfortune, as yesterday morning the young woman was quite
well, and singing with all her might--no one could have been gayer than
she was."

Upon these words, it was as if a funeral pall had been suddenly thrown
over a scene lately so full of joy; all the rubicund and jovial faces
took an expression of sadness; no one had the hardihood to make a
jest of mother and child, nailed down together in the same coffin. The
silence became so profound, that one could hear each breath oppressed by
terror: the last blows of the hammer seemed to strike painfully on every
heart; it appeared as if each sad feeling, until now repressed,
was about to replace that animation and gayety, which had b