nd hole in
the door Mother Arsene's subterraneous shop, forms a striking contrast
with the darkness of this cavern. The ray streams full upon a melancholy
object. In the midst of fagots and faded vegetables, and close to a
great heap of charcoal, stands a wretched bed; beneath the sheet, which
covers it, can be traced the stiff and angular proportions of a corpse.
It is the body of Mother Arsene herself, who died two days before, of
the cholera. The burials have been so numerous, that there has been
no time to remove her remains. The Rue Clovis is almost deserted. A
mournful silence reigns without, often broken by the sharp whistling of
the north wind. Between the squalls, one hears a sort of pattering. It
is the noise of the large rats, running to and fro across the heap of
charcoal.

Suddenly, another sound is heard, and these unclean animals fly to hide
themselves in their holes. Some one is trying to force open the door,
which communicates between the shop and the passage. It offers but
little resistance, and, in a few seconds, the worn-out lock gives
way, and a woman enters. For a short time she stands motionless in the
obscurity of the damp and icy cave. After a minute's hesitation, the
woman advances and the ray of light illumines the features of the
Bacchanal Queen. Slowly, she approached the funeral couch. Since the
death of Jacques, the alteration in the countenance of Cephyse had gone
on increasing. Fearfully pale, with her fine black hair in disorder,
her legs and feet naked, she was barely covered with an old patched
petticoat and a very ragged handkerchief.

When she came near the bed, she cast a glance of almost savage assurance
at the shroud. Suddenly she drew back, with a low cry of involuntary
terror. The sheet moved with a rapid undulation, extending from the feet
to the head of the corpse. But soon the sight of a rat, flying along the
side of the worm-eaten bedstead, explained the movement of the shroud.
Recovering from her fright, Cephyse began to look for several things,
and collected them in haste, as though she dreaded being surprised
in the miserable shop. First, she seized a basket, and filled it with
charcoal; then, looking from side to side, she discovered in a corner an
earthen pot, which she took with a burst of ominous joy.

"It is not all, it is not all," said Cephyse, as she continued to search
with an unquiet air.

At last she perceived near the stove a little tin box, containing fl