, and
immediately relapsing. "But I commenced as a she-cat."

"Ah! But like the cat in the fairy-story, good Madame Dor," says
Vendale, saluting her cheek, "you were a true woman. And, being a true
woman, the sympathy of your heart was with true love."

"I don't wish to deprive Madame Dor of her share in the embraces that are
going on," Mr. Bintrey puts in, watch in hand, "and I don't presume to
offer any objection to your having got yourselves mixed together, in the
corner there, like the three Graces. I merely remark that I think it's
time we were moving. What are _your_ sentiments on that subject, Mr.
Ladle?"

"Clear, sir," replies Joey, with a gracious grin. "I'm clearer
altogether, sir, for having lived so many weeks upon the surface. I
never was half so long upon the surface afore, and it's done me a power
of good. At Cripple Corner, I was too much below it. Atop of the
Simpleton, I was a deal too high above it. I've found the medium here,
sir. And if ever I take it in convivial, in all the rest of my days, I
mean to do it this day, to the toast of 'Bless 'em both.'"

"I, too!" says Bintrey. "And now, Monsieur Voigt, let you and me be two
men of Marseilles, and allons, marchons, arm-in-arm!"

They go down to the door, where others are waiting for them, and they go
quietly to the church, and the happy marriage takes place. While the
ceremony is yet in progress, the notary is called out. When it is
finished, he has returned, is standing behind Vendale, and touches him on
the shoulder.

"Go to the side door, one moment, Monsieur Vendale. Alone. Leave Madame
to me."

At the side door of the church, are the same two men from the Hospice.
They are snow-stained and travel-worn. They wish him joy, and then each
lays his broad hand upon Vendale's breast, and one says in a low voice,
while the other steadfastly regards him:

"It is here, Monsieur. Your litter. The very same."

"My litter is here? Why?"

"Hush! For the sake of Madame. Your companion of that day--"

"What of him?"

The man looks at his comrade, and his comrade takes him up. Each keeps
his hand laid earnestly on Vendale's breast.

"He had been living at the first Refuge, monsieur, for some days. The
weather was now good, now bad."

"Yes?"

"He arrived at our Hospice the day before yesterday, and, having
refreshed himself with sleep on the floor before the fire, wrapped in his
cloak, was resolute to go on, before dark