ang the bell placed on the table beside him; the servant reappeared.

"Bring the roast," he said, "and leave me to myself."

"Yes," continued he furiously carving a leg of Presale mutton--"Yes,
there is a child, and here is his history! The Widow Lerouge, when a
young woman, is in the service of a great lady, immensely rich. Her
husband, a sailor, probably had departed on a long voyage. The lady had
a lover--found herself enciente. She confided in the Widow Lerouge, and,
with her assistance, accomplished a clandestine accouchement."

He called again.

"Manette, the dessert, and get out!"

Certainly such a master was unworthy of so excellent a cook as Manette.
He would have been puzzled to say what he had eaten for diner, or even
what he was eating at this moment; it was a preserve of pears.

"But what," murmured he, "has become of the child? Has it been
destroyed? No; for the Widow Lerouge, an accomplice in an infanticide,
would be no longer formidable. The child has been preserved, and
confided to the care of our widow, by whom it has been reared. They have
been able to take the infant away from her, but not the proofs of its
birth and its existence. Here is the opening. The father is the man of
the fine carriage; the mother is the lady who came with the handsome
young man. Ha! ha! I can well believe the dear old dame wanted for
nothing. She had a secret worth a farm in Brie. But the old lady was
extravagant; her expenses and her demands have increased year by year.
Poor humanity! She has leaned upon the staff too heavily, and broken it.
She has threatened. They have been frightened, and said, 'Let there be
an end of this!' But who has charged himself with the commission? The
papa? No; he is too old. By jupiter! The son,--the child himself! He
would save his mother, the brave boy! He has slain the witness and burnt
the proofs!"

Manette all this time, her ear to the keyhole, listened with all her
soul; from time to time she gleaned a word, an oath, the noise of a blow
upon the table; but that was all.

"For certain," thought she, "his women are running in his head."

Her curiosity overcame her prudence. Hearing no more, she ventured to
open the door a little way. The old fellow caught her in the very act.

"Monsieur wants his coffee?" stammered she timidly.

"Yes, you may bring it to me," he answered.

He attempted to swallow his coffee at a gulp, but scalded himself so
severely that the pain brought him s