s only in the hall that Mathieu
obtained from his landlord a promise that he would write to the plumber
at Janville and that the roof of the pavilion should be entirely
renovated, since the rain came into the bedrooms.

The Seguins' landau was waiting at the door. When they had got into it
with their friend, it occurred to Mathieu to raise his eyes; and at one
of the windows he perceived Celeste standing between the two children,
intent, no doubt, on assuring herself that Monsieur and Madame were
really going. The young man recalled Reine's departure from her parents;
but here both Lucie and Gaston remained motionless, gravely mournful,
and neither their father nor their mother once thought of looking up at
them.

IV

AT half-past seven o'clock, when Mathieu arrived at the restaurant on
the Place de la Madeleine where he was to meet his employer, he found
him already there, drinking a glass of madeira with his customer, M.
Firon-Badinier. The dinner was a remarkable one; choice viands and the
best wines were served in abundance. But Mathieu was struck less by the
appetite which the others displayed than by Beauchene's activity and
skill. Glass in hand, never losing a bite, he had already persuaded
his customer, by the time the roast arrived, to order not only the new
thresher but also a mowing machine. M. Firon-Badinier was to take the
train for Evreux at nine-twenty, and when nine o'clock struck, the
other, now eager to be rid of him, contrived to pack him off in a cab to
the St.-Lazare railway station.

For a moment Beauchene remained standing on the pavement with Mathieu,
and took off his hat in order that the mild breezes of that delightful
May evening might cool his burning head.

"Well, that's settled," he said with a laugh. "But it wasn't so easily
managed. It was the Pommard which induced the beggar to make up his
mind. All the same, I was dreadfully afraid he would make me miss my
appointment."

These remarks, which escaped him amid his semi-intoxication, led him to
more confidential talk. He put on his hat again, lighted a fresh
cigar, and took Mathieu's arm. Then they walked on slowly through the
passion-stirred throng and the nightly blaze of the Boulevards.

"There's plenty of time," said Beauchene. "I'm not expected till
half-past nine, and it's close by. Will you have a cigar? No? You never
smoke?"

"Never."

"Well, my dear fellow, it would be ridiculous to feign with you, since
you hap