g himself worse than he is."

Schmucke was touched by this delicate feeling. He took La Cibot's hand
and gave it a final squeeze.

"Spare me!" cried the ex-oysterseller, leering at Schmucke.

"Bons," the good German said when he returned "Montame Zipod is an
anchel; 'tis an anchel dat brattles, but an anchel all der same."

"Do you think so? I have grown suspicious in the past month," said the
invalid, shaking his head. "After all I have been through, one comes to
believe in nothing but God and my friend--"

"Get bedder, and ve vill lif like kings, all tree of us," exclaimed
Schmucke.

"Cibot!" panted the portress as she entered the lodge. "Oh, my dear, our
fortune is made. My two gentlemen haven't nobody to come after them, no
natural children, no nothing, in short! Oh, I shall go round to Ma'am
Fontaine's and get her to tell my fortune on the cards, then we shall
know how much we are going to have--"

"Wife," said the little tailor, "it's ill counting on dead men's shoes."

"Oh, I say, are _you_ going to worry me?" asked she, giving her spouse a
playful tap. "I know what I know! Dr. Poulain has given up M. Pons. And
we are going to be rich! My name will be down in the will.... I'll see
to that. Draw your needle in and out, and look after the lodge; you will
not do it for long now. We will retire, and go into the country, out
at Batignolles. A nice house and a fine garden; you will amuse yourself
with gardening, and I shall keep a servant!"

"Well, neighbor, and how are things going on upstairs?" The words were
spoken with the thick Auvergnat accent, and Remonencq put his head in at
the door. "Do you know what the collection is worth?"

"No, no, not yet. One can't go at that rate, my good man. I have begun,
myself, by finding out more important things--"

"More important!" exclaimed Remonencq; "why, what things can be more
important?"

"Come, let me do the steering, ragamuffin," said La Cibot
authoritatively.

"But thirty per cent on seven hundred thousand francs," persisted the
dealer in old iron; "you could be your own mistress for the rest of your
days on that."

"Be easy, Daddy Remonencq; when we want to know the value of the things
that the old man has got together, then we will see."

La Cibot went for the medicine ordered by Dr. Poulain, and put off her
consultation with Mme. Fontaine until the morrow; the oracle's faculties
would be fresher and clearer in the morning, she thought; and she