ns could not possibly be
seated within it, unless one of them sat upon the side of the bed.

The magnificent and precious flower that Agricola had given to the girl
was carefully stood up in a vessel of water, placed upon the table on a
linen cloth, diffusing its sweet odor around, and expanding its purple
calix in the very closet, whose plastered walls, gray and damp, were
feebly lighted by the rays of an attenuated candle. The sempstress, who
had taken off no part of her dress, was seated upon her bed--her looks
were downcast, and her eyes full of tears. She supported herself with one
hand resting on the bolster; and, inclining towards the door, listened
with painful eagerness, every instant hoping to hear the footsteps of
Agricola. The heart of the young sempstress beat violently; her face,
usually very pale, was now partially flushed--so exciting was the emotion
by which she was agitated. Sometimes she cast her eyes with terror upon a
letter which she held in her hand, a letter that had been delivered by
post in the course of the evening, and which had been placed by the
housekeeper (the dyer) upon the table, while she was rendering some
trivial domestic services during the recognitions of Dagobert and his
family.

After some seconds, Mother Bunch heard a door, very near her own, softly
opened.

"There he is at last!" she exclaimed, and Agricola immediately entered.

"I waited till my father went to sleep," said the blacksmith, in a low
voice, his physiognomy evincing much more curiosity than uneasiness. "But
what is the matter, my good sister? How your countenance is changed! You
weep! What has happened? About what danger would you speak to me?"

"Hush! Read this!" said she, her voice trembling with emotion, while she
hastily presented to him the open letter. Agricola held it towards the
light, and read what follows:

"A person who has reasons for concealing himself, but who knows the
sisterly interest you take in the welfare of Agricola Baudoin, warns you.
That young and worthy workman will probably be arrested in the course of
to-morrow."

"I!" exclaimed Agricola, looking at Mother Bunch with an air of stupefied
amazement. "What is the meaning of all this?"

"Read on!" quickly replied the sempstress, clasping her hands.

Agricola resumed reading, scarcely believing the evidence of his
eyes:-"The song, entitled 'Working-men Freed,' has been declared
libellous. Numerous copies of it have been found among