now they have done faultily, but this doth not hinder me from pitying
them. Which of us is without offence?"

We went on our way. The bridge was deserted save for a beggarman and
woman, who met on the causeway. The pair drew stealthily into one of the
recesses over the piers, where they lurked together on the door-step
of a hucksters booth. They seemed well enough content, both of them, to
mingle their joint wretchedness, and when we went by were thinking
of quite other things than craving our charity. Nevertheless my good
master, who was the most compassionate of men, threw them a half
farthing, the last piece of money left in his breeches pocket.

"They will pick up our obol," he said, "when they have come back to the
consciousness of their misery. I pray they may not quarrel then over
fiercely for possession of the coin."

We passed on without further rencounter till on the Quai des Oiseleurs
we espied a young damsel striding along with a notable air of
resolution. Hastening our pace to get a nearer view, we saw she had a
slim waist and fair hair in which the moonbeams played prettily. She was
dressed like a citizen's wife or daughter.

"There goes a pretty girl," said the Abbe; "how comes it she is out of
doors alone at this hour of night?"

"Truly," I agreed, "'tis not the sort one generally encounters on the
bridges after curfew."

Our surprise was changed to alarm when we saw her go down to the river
bank by a little stairway the sailors use. We ran towards her; but she
did not seem to hear us. She halted at the edge; the stream was running
high, and the dull roar of the swollen waters could be heard some
way off. She stood a moment motionless, her head thrown back and arms
hanging, in an attitude of despair. Then, bending her graceful neck, she
put her two hands over her face and kept it hid behind her fingers for
some seconds. Next moment she suddenly grasped her skirts and dragged
them forward with the gesture a woman always uses when she is going to
jump. My good master and I came up with her just as she was taking the
fatal leap, and we hauled her forcibly backward. She struggled to get
free of our arms; and as the bank was all slimy and slippery with ooze
deposited by the receding waters (for the river was already beginning
to fall), M. l'Abbe Coignard came very near being dragged in too. I was
losing my foothold myself. But as luck would have it, my feet lighted on
a root which held me up as I crouch