little lamp, the profile of
the old Israelite, in the space left between the iron balustrade and the
wall, as he climbed on with difficulty above them. Rodin was struck with
the expression of Samuel's countenance. His black eyes, generally so
calm, sparkled with ardor. His features, usually impressed with a mixture
of sorrow, intelligence, and goodness, seemed to grow harsh and stern,
and his thin lips wore a strange smile.

"It is not so very high," whispered Rodin to Caboccini, "and yet my legs
ache, and I am quite out of breath. There is a strange throbbing too in
my temples."

In fact, Rodin breathed hard, and with difficulty. To this confidential
communication, good little Father Caboccini, in general so full of tender
care for his colleague, made no answer. He seemed to be in deep thought.

"Will we soon be there?" said Rodin, impatiently, to Samuel.

"We are there," replied the Israelite.

"And a good thing too," said Rodin.

"Very good," said the Jew.

Stopping in the midst of a corridor, he pointed with the hand in which he
held the lamp to a large door from which streamed a faint light. In
spite of his growing surprise. Rodin entered resolutely, followed by
Father Caboccini and Samuel. The apartment in which these three
personage, now found themselves was very large. The daylight only
entered from a belvedere in the roof, the four sides of which had been
covered with leaden plates, each of which was pierced with seven holes,
forming a cross, thus:

*
* * *
*
*
*

Now, the light being only admitted through these holes, the obscurity
would have been complete, had it not been for a lamp, which burned on a
large massive slab of black marble, fixed against one of the walls. One
would have taken it for a funeral chamber, for it was all hung with black
curtains, fringed with white. There was no furniture, save the slab of
black marble we have already mentioned. On this slab was an iron casket,
of the manufacture of the seventeenth century, admirably adorned with
open work, like lace made of metal.

Addressing Rodin, who was wiping his forehead with his dirty
handkerchief, and looking round him with surprise, but not fear, Samuel
said to him: "The will of the testator, however strange it may appear, is
sacred with me, and must be accomplished in all things."

"Certainly," said Rodin; "but what are we to do here?"

"You will know presently