a hideous doom. Thousands of kindly,
earnest men have done the same in one way or another. But Paragot's way
was different from anyone else's. Its glorious lunacy lifted it above
ordinary human methods.

So many of your wildly impulsive people repent them of their
generosities as soon as the magnanimous fervour has cooled. The grandeur
of Paragot lay in the fact that he never repented. He was fantastic,
self-indulgent, wastrel, braggart, what you will; but he had an
exaggerated notion of the value of every human soul save his own. The
destiny of poor Blanquette was to him of infinitely more importance than
that of the wayward genius that was Paragot. The pathos of his point of
view had struck me, even as a child, when he discoursed on my prospects.

"I am Paragot, my son," he would say, "a film full of wind and wonder,
fantasy and folly, driven like thistledown about the world. I do not
count. But you, my little Asticot, have the Great Responsibility before
you. It is for you to uplift a corner of the veil of Life and show joy
to men and women where they would not have sought it. Work now and
gather wisdom, my son, so that when the Great Day comes you may not miss
your destiny." And once, he added wistfully--"as I have missed mine."

* * * * *

As Paragot decided that we should not start off then and there into the
unknown but remain at the cafe until we had laid our plan of campaign,
Blanquette took her valise into the house, and, for the rest of the day,
busied herself in the kitchen with the _patronne_; Paragot drank with
the villagers in the cafe; and I, when Thierry and Narcisse had given me
all the companionship they had to offer, curled myself up on the
mattress spread in a corner of the tiny _salle a manger_ and went to
sleep.

The next morning Paragot awakened with an Idea. He would go to
Aix-les-Bains which was close by, and would return in the evening. The
nature of his errand he would not tell me. Who was I, little grey worm
that I was, to question his outgoings and his incomings? The little grey
worm would stay with Blanquette and Narcisse and see to it that they did
not bite each other. I humbly accepted the rebuke and obeyed the behest.
The afternoon found the three of us in a field under a tree; Blanquette
embracing her knees, and the dog asleep with his throat across her feet.
She was wearing her old cotton dress, and as she had been helping the
_patronne_ all the mo