them, and finding something quite roysterous and
insurrectional in their appearance. Sometimes when he was in bed he
dreamed that a fight was going on in the wardrobe; he could hear
guns being fired there, paving-stones being torn up and piled into
barricades, and voices shouting in clamorous triumph; and he said to
himself that it was his money fighting against the Government.

La Sarriette, however, had stretched out her hands with a cry of
delight.

"Paws off, little one!" exclaimed Madame Lecoeur in a hoarse voice.

As she stood there in the reflection of the gold, she looked yellower
than ever--her face discoloured by biliousness, her eyes glowing
feverishly from the liver complaint which was secretly undermining her.
Behind her Mademoiselle Saget on tip-toe was gazing ecstatically into
the wardrobe, and Madame Leonce had now risen from her seat, and was
growling sulkily.

"My uncle said I was to take everything," declared the girl.

"And am I to have nothing, then; I who have done so much for him?" cried
the doorkeeper.

Madame Lecoeur was almost choking with excitement. She pushed the others
away, and clung hold of the wardrobe, screaming: "It all belongs to
me! I am his nearest relative. You are a pack of thieves, you are! I'd
rather throw it all out of the window than see you have it!"

Then silence fell, and they all four stood glowering at each other.
The kerchief that La Sarriette wore over her breast was now altogether
unfastened, and she displayed her bosom heaving with warm life, her
moist red lips, her rosy nostrils. Madame Lecoeur grew still more sour
as she saw how lovely the girl looked in the excitement of her longing
desire.

"Well," she said in a lower tone, "we won't fight about it. You are his
niece, and I'll divide the money with you. We will each take a pile in
turn."

Thereupon they pushed the other two aside. The butter dealer took
the first pile, which at once disappeared within her skirts. Then La
Sarriette took a pile. They kept a close watch upon one another, ready
to fight at the slightest attempt at cheating. Their fingers were thrust
forward in turn, the hideous knotted fingers of the aunt and the white
fingers of the niece, soft and supple as silk. Slowly they filled their
pockets. When there was only one pile left, La Sarriette objected to
her aunt taking it, as she had commenced; and she suddenly divided
it between Mademoiselle Saget and Madame Leonce, who had watched th