cture. But stop, sir, take a look at it."

He rose, went to the wall at the foot of which stood the panel which we
have already mentioned, and turned it round, still leaving it supported
against the wall. It really was something which resembled a picture, and
which the candle illuminated, somewhat. Marius could make nothing out of
it, as Jondrette stood between the picture and him; he only saw a coarse
daub, and a sort of principal personage colored with the harsh crudity
of foreign canvasses and screen paintings.

"What is that?" asked M. Leblanc.

Jondrette exclaimed:--

"A painting by a master, a picture of great value, my benefactor! I am
as much attached to it as I am to my two daughters; it recalls souvenirs
to me! But I have told you, and I will not take it back, that I am so
wretched that I will part with it."

Either by chance, or because he had begun to feel a dawning uneasiness,
M. Leblanc's glance returned to the bottom of the room as he examined
the picture.

There were now four men, three seated on the bed, one standing near the
door-post, all four with bare arms and motionless, with faces smeared
with black. One of those on the bed was leaning against the wall, with
closed eyes, and it might have been supposed that he was asleep. He
was old; his white hair contrasting with his blackened face produced a
horrible effect. The other two seemed to be young; one wore a beard, the
other wore his hair long. None of them had on shoes; those who did not
wear socks were barefooted.

Jondrette noticed that M. Leblanc's eye was fixed on these men.

"They are friends. They are neighbors," said he. "Their faces are black
because they work in charcoal. They are chimney-builders. Don't trouble
yourself about them, my benefactor, but buy my picture. Have pity on
my misery. I will not ask you much for it. How much do you think it is
worth?"

"Well," said M. Leblanc, looking Jondrette full in the eye, and with the
manner of a man who is on his guard, "it is some signboard for a tavern,
and is worth about three francs."

Jondrette replied sweetly:--

"Have you your pocket-book with you? I should be satisfied with a
thousand crowns."

M. Leblanc sprang up, placed his back against the wall, and cast a rapid
glance around the room. He had Jondrette on his left, on the side next
the window, and the Jondrette woman and the four men on his right, on
the side next the door. The four men did not stir, and did not even