topping short on the
stairs, "why go to this place?"

"The money is there," answered Samuel, and he went on,

"Oh? if the money is there, that alters the case," replied Rodin; and he
made haste to regain the few steps he had lost by stopping.

Samuel continued to ascend, and, at a turn of the staircase, the two
Jesuits could see by the pale light of the little lamp, the profile of
the old Israelite, in the space left between the iron balustrade and the
wall, as he climbed on with difficulty above them. Rodin was struck with
the expression of Samuel's countenance. His black eyes, generally
so calm, sparkled with ardor. His features, usually impressed with a
mixture of sorrow, intelligence, and goodness, seemed to grow harsh and
stern, and his thin lips wore a strange smile.

"It is not so very high," whispered Rodin to Caboccini, "and yet my legs
ache, and I am quite out of breath. There is a strange throbbing too in
my temples."

In fact, Rodin breathed hard, and with difficulty. To this confidential
communication, good little Father Caboccini, in general so full of
tender care for his colleague, made no answer. He seemed to be in deep
thought.

"Will we soon be there?" said Rodin, impatiently, to Samuel.

"We are there," replied the Israelite.

"And a good thing too," said Rodin.

"Very good," said the Jew.

Stopping in the midst of a corridor, he pointed with the hand in which
he held the lamp to a large door from which streamed a faint light. In
spite of his growing surprise. Rodin entered resolutely, followed
by Father Caboccini and Samuel. The apartment in which these three
personage, now found themselves was very large. The daylight only
entered from a belvedere in the roof, the four sides of which had been
covered with leaden plates, each of which was pierced with seven holes,
forming a cross, thus:

*
* * *
*
*
*

Now, the light being only admitted through these holes, the obscurity
would have been complete, had it not been for a lamp, which burned on a
large massive slab of black marble, fixed against one of the walls.
One would have taken it for a funeral chamber, for it was all hung with
black curtains, fringed with white. There was no furniture, save the
slab of black marble we have already mentioned. On this slab was an iron
casket, of the manufacture of the seventeenth century, admirably adorned
with open work, like lace made