hink he had lowered himself by taking my money for the
pleasure he gave me. Well, I had my stall up here on the third floor!
there is a convenient little hole in the blind through which I could
peep and see the whole proceedings."

They both thanked him warmly, and were about to move on, when the
strange old man arrested them.

"Stop a second, my poor children. You must be numbed with standing so
long in that frosty air. I have a good fire upstairs. Come and warm
yourselves for a few moments."

His voice and manner were compelling. Wonderingly they obeyed,
although at the moment, they were thinking very intently of their
supper. Still, the night was young yet. They could wait a little
longer to make their purchases. Plenty of shops would be open. And a
few minutes spent at a bright fire would be comfortable.

He opened the door wide as they entered it and closed it behind him.
Then he skipped, wonderfully nimbly for a man of his age, in front of
them.

"Follow Papa Peron, that is what they call me in these parts, where I
have lived for Heaven knows how many years. It is a big climb and I
don't do it as easily as I used. But to children like you, it is a hop
and a skip. Follow me."

They followed him up the old-fashioned staircase into a small room,
where a roaring fire was blazing. He drew forth two easy-chairs and
motioned to them to seat themselves. He lighted another gas-jet in
their honour. He looked intently at their white faces, and what he
read there impelled him to a swift course of action.

He dived into a small sideboard. In a moment, as it seemed to the
fascinated watchers, he had laid a cloth upon the small and rather
rickety table, arranged knives and forks. Then he produced half a
fowl, two sorts of sausages, half a ripe Camembert cheese, and a dish
of tinned fruit. When all his preparations were complete, he beckoned
them imperiously to the table. He spoke in short, sharp accents, with
the air of a man who is accustomed to be obeyed.

"At once, please! You are famished with that dreary standing in this
arctic street, and it will be some time before you can get food.
Please fall in at once."

The sharp pangs of hunger were already gnawing the vitals of both
brother and sister, the tasty viands were inviting enough; but they
had observed the poorly furnished room. Monsieur Peron, in his small
fastidious way, seemed to have an air of distinction, but his clothes
were well-worn. Nobody could be as