the bill, drove Agathe, Joseph, and the Descoings to
tears, and told of debts contracted in New York, where his comrades in
misfortunes had indorsed for him.

"It was I who made him go!" cried the poor mother, eager to divert the
blame from Philippe.

"I advise you not to send him on many such journeys," said the old
Descoings to her niece.

Madame Descoings was heroic. She continued to give the three thousand
francs a year to Madame Bridau, but she still paid the dues on her trey
which had never turned up since the year 1799. About this time, she
began to doubt the honesty of the government, and declared it was
capable of keeping the three numbers in the urn, so as to excite the
shareholders to put in enormous stakes. After a rapid survey of all
their resources, it seemed to the two women impossible to raise the
thousand francs without selling out the little that remained in the
Funds. They talked of pawning their silver and part of the linen,
and even the needless pieces of furniture. Joseph, alarmed at these
suggestions, went to see Gerard and told him their circumstances. The
great painter obtained an order from the household of the king for
two copies of a portrait of Louis XVIII., at five hundred francs
each. Though not naturally generous, Gros took his pupil to an
artist-furnishing house and fitted him out with the necessary materials.
But the thousand francs could not be had till the copies were delivered,
so Joseph painted four panels in ten days, sold them to the dealers and
brought his mother the thousand francs with which to meet the bill of
exchange when it fell due. Eight days later, came a letter from the
colonel, informing his mother that he was about to return to France
on board a packet from New York, whose captain had trusted him for
the passage-money. Philippe announced that he should need at least a
thousand francs on his arrival at Havre.

"Good," said Joseph to his mother, "I shall have finished my copies by
that time, and you can carry him the money."

"Dear Joseph!" cried Agathe in tears, kissing her son, "God will bless
you. You do love him, then, poor persecuted fellow? He is indeed our
glory and our hope for the future. So young, so brave, so unfortunate!
everything is against him; we three must always stand by him."

"You see now that painting is good for something," cried Joseph,
overjoyed to have won his mother's permission to be a great artist.

Madame Bridau rushed to meet her be