rmer proprietors of this house? I spent about ten
days here thirty years ago. I am talking old times.'

"'Those were my parents, monsieur,' he replied.

"Then I told him why we had stayed over at that time, how my comrade had
been delayed by illness. He did not let me finish.

"'Oh, I recollect perfectly. I was about fifteen or sixteen. You slept in
the room at the end and your friend in the one I have taken for myself,
overlooking the street.'

"It was only then that the recollection of the little maid came vividly
to my mind. I asked: 'Do you remember a pretty little servant who was
then in your father's employ, and who had, if my memory does not deceive
me, pretty eyes and fresh-looking teeth?'

"'Yes, monsieur; she died in childbirth some time after.'

"And, pointing to the courtyard where a thin, lame man was stirring up
the manure, he added:

"'That is her son.'

"I began to laugh:

"'He is not handsome and does not look much like his mother. No doubt he
looks like his father.'

"'That is very possible,' replied the innkeeper; 'but we never knew whose
child it was. She died without telling any one, and no one here knew of
her having a beau. Every one was hugely astonished when they heard she
was enceinte, and no one would believe it.'

"A sort of unpleasant chill came over me, one of those painful surface
wounds that affect us like the shadow of an impending sorrow. And I
looked at the man in the yard. He had just drawn water for the horses and
was carrying two buckets, limping as he walked, with a painful effort of
his shorter leg. His clothes were ragged, he was hideously dirty, with
long yellow hair, so tangled that it looked like strands of rope falling
down at either side of his face.

"'He is not worth much,' continued the innkeeper; 'we have kept him for
charity's sake. Perhaps he would have turned out better if he had been
brought up like other folks. But what could one do, monsieur? No father,
no mother, no money! My parents took pity on him, but he was not their
child, you understand.'

"I said nothing.

"I slept in my old room, and all night long I thought of this frightful
stableman, saying to myself: 'Supposing it is my own son? Could I have
caused that girl's death and procreated this being? It was quite
possible!'

"I resolved to speak to this man and to find out the exact date of his
birth. A variation of two months would set my doubts at rest.

"I sent for him the next day. Bu