s
glittering eyes, was searching it, weighing in fancy all the treasure of
the poor that it contained, all the gold and silver and even the copper
money that distended its sides. Still in silence, he watched Madame
Angelin as she closed it, slipped its little chain round her wrist, and
then finally rose from her chair.

"Well, au revoir, till next month then," she resumed. "I shall certainly
call on the 5th; and in all probability I shall begin my round with you.
But it's possible that it may be rather late in the afternoon, for
it happens to be my poor husband's name-day. And so be brave and work
well."

Norine and Cecile had likewise risen, in order to escort her to the
door. Here again there was an outpouring of gratitude, and the child
once more kissed the good lady on both cheeks with all his little heart.
The sisters, so terrified by Alexandre's arrival, at last began to
breathe again.

In point of fact the incident terminated fairly well, for the young man
showed himself accommodating. When Cecile returned from obtaining
change for the gold, he contented himself with taking one of the four
five-franc pieces which she brought up with her. And he did not tarry to
torture them as was his wont, but immediately went off with the money he
had levied, whistling the while the air of a hunting-song.

The 5th of the ensuing month, a Saturday, was one of the gloomiest,
most rainy days of that wretched, mournful winter. Darkness fell rapidly
already at three o'clock in the afternoon, and it became almost night.
At the deserted end of Rue de la Federation there was an expanse of
waste ground, a building site, for long years enclosed by a fence, which
dampness had ended by rotting. Some of the boards were missing, and at
one part there was quite a breach. All through that afternoon, in spite
of the constantly recurring downpours, a scraggy girl remained stationed
near that breach, wrapped to her eyes in the ragged remnants of an
old shawl, doubtless for protection against the cold. She seemed to
be waiting for some chance meeting, the advent it might be of some
charitably disposed wayfarer. And her impatience was manifest, for
while keeping close to the fence like some animal lying in wait, she
continually peered through the breach, thrusting out her tapering
weasel's head and watching yonder, in the direction of the Champ de
Mars.

Hours went by, three o'clock struck, and then such dark clouds rolled
over the livid sky