blind man, attended by a little
ragged boy, who sat on a stone by the wayside, apparently to solicit
alms from those who passed by. Although he seemed to be extremely aged
and feeble, he was chanting a sort of lament over his misfortunes, and
an appeal to the charity of travellers, in a loud, whining, yet vigorous
voice; promising his prayers to those who gave him of their substance,
and assuring them that they should surely go to Paradise as a reward for
their generosity. For some time before they came up with him, Isabelle
and de Sigognac had heard his doleful chant--much to the annoyance of
the latter; for when one is listening, entranced, to the sweet singing
of the nightingale, it is sorely vexatious to be intruded upon by the
discordant croaking of a raven. As they drew near to the poor old blind
man, they saw his little attendant bend down and whisper in his ear,
whereupon he redoubled his groans and supplications--at the same time
holding out towards them a small wooden bowl, in which were a few
coppers, and shaking it, so as to make them rattle as loudly as
possible, to attract their attention. He was a venerable looking old
man, with a long white beard, and seemed to be shivering with cold,
despite the great, thick, woollen cloak in which he was wrapped. The
child, a wild-looking little creature, whose scanty, tattered clothing
was but a poor protection against the stinging cold, shrunk timidly from
notice, and tried to hide himself behind his aged charge. Isabelle's
tender heart was moved to pity at the sight of so much misery, and she
stopped in front of the forlorn little group while she searched in her
pocket for her purse--not finding it there she turned to her companion
and asked him to lend her a little money for the poor old blind beggar,
which the baron hastened to do--though he was thoroughly out of patience
with his whining jeremiads--and, to prevent Isabelle's coming in actual
contact with him, stepped forward himself to deposit the coins in his
wooden bowl. Thereupon, instead of tearfully thanking his benefactor
and invoking blessings upon his head, after the usual fashion of such
gentry, the blind man--to Isabelle's inexpressible alarm--suddenly
sprang to his feet, and straightening himself up with a jerk, opened his
arms wide, as a vulture spreads its wings for flight, gathered up his
ample cloak about his shoulders with lightning rapidity and flung
it from him with a quick, sweeping motion like t