. Attention!" And
suddenly changing his tone, he began to speak in a voice calculated to
excite pity:

"Grateful thanks, kind lady! The good God will rain blessings on you
for it.... I thank you, kind lady!"

Vagualame moved off.

III

BARON NAARBOVECK'S HOUSE

Despite the gusty wind and squalls of icy rain which deluged Paris,
despite the early morning hour, although it was one of those first
dark days of November which depress humanity, Jerome Fandor, the
journalist, editorial contributor to the popular evening paper _La
Capitale_, was in a gay mood, and showed it by singing at the top of
his voice, at the risk of rousing the neighbourhood.

In his very comfortable little flat, rue Richer, where he had lived
for a number of years, the young journalist was coming and going
busily: cupboards, drawers, wardrobes, were opened wide, garments,
piles of linen, were spread about in all the rooms. On the dining-room
table a large travelling bag lay open: into this, with the aid of his
housekeeper, Jerome Fandor was feverishly packing the spare things he
required, and was talking in joking fashion with his old servant,
Angelique.

Presently she asked, rather anxiously:

"Are you likely to be away a long time, sir?"

The journalist shook his head and murmured:

"I should like to be, but you don't suppose we journalists get
holidays of that sort!"

Still anxious, Angelique went on:

"Perhaps you intend to change your housekeeper when you return,
Monsieur Fandor? Nevertheless----"

"You are really mad, Angelique! Have I not told you twenty times that
I am going away for a fortnight's holiday? Never for a moment have I
thought of getting rid of you--quite the contrary! I am delighted with
the way you do your work. There now! I shall go by way of Monaco--I
promise to put five francs on the red for you!"

"On the red?" questioned old Angelique.

"Yes. It's a game. If red's the winner there will be a present for
you! Hurry off now and bring up my trousers!"

Whilst his housekeeper hastened downstairs, Fandor went to the window
and, with a questioning glance, considered the dull grey sky.

"Disgusting weather!" he murmured. "But what do I care for that? I am
going to the sun of the South--ah, to the sun!" He laughed a great
laugh of satisfaction. How he had looked forward to this holiday, how
he had longed for it!--this holiday he was going to take now, after
two-and-twenty months of uninterrupted work!