avan in which he
traveled with his wife and child. He used to take pictures on the market
squares where they stopped...."

The banker paused and glanced at some papers he held in his hand.

"Oh, you have something to read, haven't you?" said the blind man as he
heard the paper rustle. "Read, it will be quicker."

"He plied the trade of a photographer," continued the banker, consulting
his notes, "and at the beginning of November he left Serajevo for
Travnik, where he fell ill. He became very ill...."

"My God!" cried the blind man. "Oh, God...."

M. Vulfran had clasped his hands; he was trembling from head to foot, as
though a vision of his son was standing before him.

"You must have courage," said the banker, gently. "You need all your
courage. Your son...."

"He is dead!" said the blind man.

"That is only too true," replied the banker. "All the papers are
authentic. I did not want to have any doubt upon the matter, and that
was why I cabled to our Consul at Serajevo. Here is his reply; it leaves
no doubt."

But the old man did not appear to be listening. He sat huddled up in his
big chair, his head drooped forward on his chest. He gave no sign of
life. Perrine, terrified, wondered if he were dead.

Then suddenly he pulled himself together and the tears began to run down
his wrinkled cheeks. He brushed them aside quickly and touched the
electric bell which communicated with Talouel's and his nephew's
offices.

The call was so imperative that they all ran to the office together.

"You are there?" asked the blind man; "Talouel, Theodore and Casimir?"

All three replied together.

"I have just learned of the death of my son," said their employer. "Stop
work in all the factories immediately. Tomorrow the funeral services
will be held in the churches at Maraucourt, Saint-Pipoy and all the
other villages."

"Oh, uncle!" cried both the nephews.

He stopped them with uplifted hand.

"I wish to be alone ... leave me," was all he said.

Everyone left the room but Perrine. She alone remained.

"Aurelie, are you there?" asked the blind man.

She replied with a sob.

"Let us go home," he said.

As was his habit, he placed his hand on her shoulder, and it was like
this that they passed through the crowd of workers who streamed from the
factory. As they stood aside for him to pass, all who saw him wondered
if he would survive this blow. He, who usually walked so upright, was
bent like a tree that the st