ubles of man
beneath an indescribably mournful and eternal joy. The night promised to
be as arid as the day had been.

"Stars everywhere!" thought the old man; "not the tiniest cloud! Not a
drop of water!"

And his head, which had been upraised for a moment, fell back upon his
breast.

He raised it again, and once more looked at the sky, murmuring:--

"A tear of dew! A little pity!"

He tried again to unhook the chain of the well, and could not.

At that moment, he heard a voice saying:--

"Father Mabeuf, would you like to have me water your garden for you?"

At the same time, a noise as of a wild animal passing became audible
in the hedge, and he beheld emerging from the shrubbery a sort of tall,
slender girl, who drew herself up in front of him and stared boldly at
him. She had less the air of a human being than of a form which had just
blossomed forth from the twilight.

Before Father Mabeuf, who was easily terrified, and who was, as we have
said, quick to take alarm, was able to reply by a single syllable, this
being, whose movements had a sort of odd abruptness in the darkness, had
unhooked the chain, plunged in and withdrawn the bucket, and filled the
watering-pot, and the goodman beheld this apparition, which had bare
feet and a tattered petticoat, running about among the flower-beds
distributing life around her. The sound of the watering-pot on the
leaves filled Father Mabeuf's soul with ecstasy. It seemed to him that
the rhododendron was happy now.

The first bucketful emptied, the girl drew a second, then a third. She
watered the whole garden.

There was something about her, as she thus ran about among paths, where
her outline appeared perfectly black, waving her angular arms, and with
her fichu all in rags, that resembled a bat.

When she had finished, Father Mabeuf approached her with tears in his
eyes, and laid his hand on her brow.

"God will bless you," said he, "you are an angel since you take care of
the flowers."

"No," she replied. "I am the devil, but that's all the same to me."

The old man exclaimed, without either waiting for or hearing her
response:--

"What a pity that I am so unhappy and so poor, and that I can do nothing
for you!"

"You can do something," said she.

"What?"

"Tell me where M. Marius lives."

The old man did not understand. "What Monsieur Marius?"

He raised his glassy eyes and seemed to be seeking something that had
vanished.

"A young man who us