felt nothing. I was icy cold, as if my heart were frozen. O God! O God!
what trouble to be sure, and how horrid and cruel it all is!"

Then, as her little boy, on seeing her weep, ran up and flung himself;
frightened and tearful, against her bosom, she wildly caught him in her
arms. "My poor little one! my poor little one! if only you don't suffer
by it; if only my sin doesn't fall on you! Ah! that would be a terrible
punishment. Really the best course is for folks to behave properly in
life if they don't want to have a lot of trouble afterwards!"

In the evening the sisters, having grown somewhat calmer, decided that
their best course would be to write to Mathieu. Norine remembered that
he had called on her a few years previously to ask if Alexandre had not
been to see her. He alone knew all the particulars of the business, and
where to obtain information. And, indeed, as soon as the sisters'
letter reached him Mathieu made haste to call on them in the Rue de
la Federation, for he was anxious with respect to the effect which any
scandal might have at the works, where Beauchene's position was becoming
worse every day. After questioning Norine at length, he guessed that
Alexandre must have learnt her address through La Couteau, though he
could not say precisely how this had come about. At last, after a long
month of discreet researches, conversations with Madame Menoux, Celeste,
and La Couteau herself, he was able in some measure to explain
things. The alert had certainly come from the inquiry intrusted to the
nurse-agent at Rougemont, that visit which she had made to the hamlet of
Saint-Pierre in quest of information respecting the lad who was supposed
to be in apprenticeship with Montoir the wheelwright. She had talked too
much, said too much, particularly to the other apprentice, that Richard,
another foundling, and one of such bad instincts, too, that seven months
later he had taken flight, like Alexandre, after purloining some money
from his master. Then years elapsed, and all trace of them was lost. But
later on, most assuredly they had met one another on the Paris pavement,
in such wise that the big carroty lad had told the little dark fellow
the whole story how his relatives had caused a search to be made for
him, and perhaps, too, who his mother was, the whole interspersed with
tittle-tattle and ridiculous inventions. Still this did not explain
everything, and to understand how Alexandre had procured his mother