on his breast
the little oval plaque of red cloth, with the crossed swords, the
soldier's cross of Saint-Louis, and adorned, in addition, with a
coat-sleeve, which had no arm within it, with a silver chin and a wooden
leg. Marius thought he perceived that this man had an extremely well
satisfied air. It even struck him that the aged cynic, as he hobbled
along past him, addressed to him a very fraternal and very merry wink,
as though some chance had created an understanding between them, and as
though they had shared some piece of good luck together. What did that
relic of Mars mean by being so contented? What had passed between
that wooden leg and the other? Marius reached a paroxysm of
jealousy.--"Perhaps he was there!" he said to himself; "perhaps he
saw!"--And he felt a desire to exterminate the veteran.

With the aid of time, all points grow dull. Marius' wrath against
"Ursule," just and legitimate as it was, passed off. He finally pardoned
her; but this cost him a great effort; he sulked for three days.

Nevertheless, in spite of all this, and because of all this, his passion
augmented and grew to madness.

CHAPTER IX--ECLIPSE

The reader has just seen how Marius discovered, or thought that he
discovered, that She was named Ursule.

Appetite grows with loving. To know that her name was Ursule was a great
deal; it was very little. In three or four weeks, Marius had devoured
this bliss. He wanted another. He wanted to know where she lived.

He had committed his first blunder, by falling into the ambush of the
bench by the Gladiator. He had committed a second, by not remaining at
the Luxembourg when M. Leblanc came thither alone. He now committed a
third, and an immense one. He followed "Ursule."

She lived in the Rue de l'Ouest, in the most unfrequented spot, in a
new, three-story house, of modest appearance.

From that moment forth, Marius added to his happiness of seeing her at
the Luxembourg the happiness of following her home.

His hunger was increasing. He knew her first name, at least, a charming
name, a genuine woman's name; he knew where she lived; he wanted to know
who she was.

One evening, after he had followed them to their dwelling, and had seen
them disappear through the carriage gate, he entered in their train and
said boldly to the porter:--

"Is that the gentleman who lives on the first floor, who has just come
in?"

"No," replied the porter. "He is the gentleman on the third fl