ed. "I told you so; if I were you I should choose little
Raymonde, Mademoiselle de Jonquiere."

"But she hasn't a copper!"

"That's true--she has barely enough to pay for her board. But she is
fairly good-looking, she has been well brought up, and she has no
extravagant tastes. That is the really important point, for what is the
use of marrying a rich girl if she squanders the dowry she brings you?
Besides, I know Madame and Mademoiselle de Jonquiere very well, I meet
them all through the winter in the most influential drawing-rooms of
Paris. And, finally, don't forget the girl's uncle, the diplomatist, who
has had the painful courage to remain in the service of the Republic. He
will be able to do whatever he pleases for his niece's husband."

For a moment Gerard seemed shaken, and then he relapsed into perplexity.
"But she hasn't a copper," he said, "no, not a copper. It's too stiff. I
am quite willing to think it over, but it really frightens me too much."

This time Berthaud burst into a frank laugh. "Come, you are ambitious, so
you must be daring. I tell you that it means the secretaryship of an
embassy before two years are over. By the way, Madame and Mademoiselle de
Jonquiere are in the white train which we are waiting for. Make up your
mind and pay your court at once."

"No, no! Later on. I want to think it over."

At this moment they were interrupted, for Baron Suire, who had already
once gone by without perceiving them, so completely did the darkness
enshroud them in that retired corner, had just recognised the ex-public
prosecutor's good-natured laugh. And, thereupon, with the volubility of a
man whose head is easily unhinged, he gave him several orders respecting
the vehicles and the transport service, deploring the circumstance that
it would be impossible to conduct the patients to the Grotto immediately
on their arrival, as it was yet so extremely early. It had therefore been
decided that they should in the first instance be taken to the Hospital
of Our Lady of Dolours, where they would be able to rest awhile after
their trying journey.

Whilst the Baron and the superintendent were thus settling what measures
should be adopted, Gerard shook hands with a priest who had sat down
beside him. This was the Abbe des Hermoises, who was barely
eight-and-thirty years of age and had a superb head--such a head as one
might expect to find on the shoulders of a worldly priest. With his hair
well combed, and his p