e bridge, and
the wind curled it in little waves, the tops of which were just touched
by the level rays of the setting sun. Women passed him bearing baskets
of wet linen, fishermen drew in their lines, and a whole river-side
population, sailors and bargemen, with their rounded shoulders and
woollen hoods, hurried past him. With these there was still another
class, rough and ferocious of aspect, who were quite capable of pulling
you out of the Seine for fifteen francs, and of throwing you in again
for a hundred sous. Occasionally one of these men would turn to look at
this slender schoolboy who seemed in such a hurry.

The appearance of the shore was continually changing. In one place
it was black, and long planks were laid to boats laden with charcoal.
Farther on, similar boats were crowded with fruit, and a delicious odor
of fresh orchards was wafted on the air. Suddenly there was a look of a
great harbor; steamboats were loading at the wharves; a few rods more,
and a group of old trees bathed their distorted roots in a limpid
stream, and one could easily fancy one's self twenty leagues from Paris,
and in an earlier century.

But night was close at hand.

The arches of the bridges vanished in darkness; the bank was deserted,
and illuminated only by that vague light which comes from even the very
darkest body of water.

But still the child toiled on, and at last found himself on a long
wharf, covered with warehouses and piled with merchandise. He had
reached Bercy, but it was night, and he was filled with terror lest
he should be stopped at the gate; but the little fugitive was hardly
noticed. He passed the barrier without hindrance, and soon found himself
in a long, narrow street, solitary and dimly lighted. While the child
was in the life and motion of the city, he was terrified only by one
thought, and that was that Moronval would find him. Now he was still
afraid, but his fear was of another character--born of silence and
solitude.

Yet the place where he now found himself was not the country. The street
was bordered with houses on both sides, but as the child slowly toiled
on, these buildings became farther and farther apart, and considerably
lower in height. Although barely eight o'clock, this road was almost
deserted. Occasional pedestrians walked noiselessly over the damp
ground, while the dismal howling of a dog added to the cheerlessness
of the scene. Jack was troubled. Each step that he took led him fur