ated.

The sound of his feet upon the causeway began the business of the day;
for the village was still sound asleep. The church tower looked very airy
in the sunlight; a few birds that turned about it seemed to swim in an
atmosphere of more than usual rarity; and the Doctor, walking in long
transparent shadows, filled his lungs amply, and proclaimed himself well
contented with the morning.

On one of the posts before Tentaillon's carriage entry he espied a little
dark figure perched in a meditative attitude, and immediately recognised
Jean-Marie.

"Aha!" he said, stopping before him humorously, with a hand on either
knee. "So we rise early in the morning, do we? It appears to me that we
have all the vices of a philosopher."

The boy got to his feet and made a grave salutation.

"And how is our patient?" asked Desprez.

It appeared the patient was about the same.

"And why do you rise early in the morning?" he pursued.

Jean-Marie, after a long silence, professed that he hardly knew.

"You hardly know?" repeated Desprez. "We hardly know anything, my man,
until we try to learn. Interrogate your consciousness. Come, push me this
inquiry home. Do you like it?"

"Yes," said the boy slowly; "yes, I like it."

"And why do you like it?" continued the Doctor. "(We are now pursuing the
Socratic method.) Why do you like it?"

"It is quiet," answered Jean-Marie; "and I have nothing to do; and then I
feel as if I were good."

Doctor Desprez took a seat on the post at the opposite side. He was
beginning to take an interest in the talk, for the boy plainly thought
before he spoke, and tried to answer truly. "It appears you have a taste
for feeling good," said the Doctor. "Now, there you puzzle me extremely;
for I thought you said you were a thief; and the two are incompatible."

"Is it very bad to steal?" asked Jean-Marie.

"Such is the general opinion, little boy," replied the Doctor.

"No; but I mean as I stole," explained the other. "For I had no choice. I
think it is surely right to have bread; it must be right to have bread,
there comes so plain a want of it. And then they beat me cruelly if I
returned with nothing," he added. "I was not ignorant of right and wrong;
for before that I had been well taught by a priest, who was very kind to
me." (The Doctor made a horrible grimace at the word "priest.") "But it
seemed to me, when one had nothing to eat and was beaten, it was a
different affair. I would not have s