, she did not
perceive him. Still, this delay did not alarm her much; nor was it at
all strange, since Pascal had scarcely known what he would have to do
when he left the house. She seated herself on a bench, as far back in
the shade as possible and gazed sadly at the ever-changing throng, when
all of a sudden she was startled by a man, who abruptly paused in front
of her. This man proved to be Pascal. But his hair had been closely cut,
and he had shaved off his beard. And thus shorn, with his smooth face,
and with a brown silk neckerchief in lieu of the white muslin tie he
usually wore, he was so greatly changed that for an instant his own
mother did not recognize him. "Well?" asked Madame Ferailleur, as she
realized his identity.

"I have succeeded. We have secured such rooms as I wished for."

"Where?"

"Ah!--a long way off, my poor mother--many a league from those we have
known and loved--in a thinly populated part of the suburbs, on the Route
de la Revolte, just outside the fortifications, and almost at the point
where it intersects the Asnieres road. You will not be very comfortable
there, but you will have the pleasure of a little garden."

She rose, summoning all her energy. "What does it matter where or what
our abode is?" she interrupted, with forced gayety. "I am confident that
we shall not remain there long."

But it seemed as if her son did not share her hopes, for he remained
silent and dejected; and as his mother observed him closely, she fancied
by the expression of his eyes, that some new anxiety had been added to
all his other troubles.

"What is the matter?" she inquired, unable to master her alarm--"what
has happened?"

"Ah! a great misfortune!"

"My God! still another?"

"I have been to the Rue de Courcelles; and I have spoken to Madame
Leon."

"What did she say?"

"The Count de Chalusse died this morning."

Madame Ferailleur drew a long breath, as if greatly relieved. She was
certainly expecting to hear something very different, and she did
not understand why this death should be a great misfortune to them
personally. One point, however, she did realize, that it was imprudent,
and even dangerous, to carry on this conversation in a hall where a
hundred persons were passing and repassing every minute. So she took her
son's arm, and led him away, saying: "Come, let us go."

Pascal had kept the cab which he had been using during the afternoon;
and having installed his mother inside, h