cried himself quiet, the faint
melody began to steal soothingly into his consciousness. His eyelids
closed drowsily, and then the accordeon seemed to be singing something
to him. He could not understand at first, but just as he was dropping
off to sleep he heard it quite clearly:

"Till the stars and the angels come to keep
Their watch, where my baby lies fast asleep."

Late in the night Jules awoke with a start, and sat up, wondering what
had aroused him. He knew that it must be after midnight, for the moon
was nearly down. Henri was snoring. Suddenly such a strong feeling of
hunger came over him, that he could think of nothing else. It was like a
gnawing pain. As if he were being led by some power outside of his own
will, he slipped to the door of the room. The little bare feet made no
noise on the carpetless floor. No mouse could have stolen down the
stairs more silently than timid little Jules. The latch of the kitchen
door gave a loud click that made him draw back with a shiver of alarm;
but that was all. After waiting one breathless minute, his heart beating
like a trip-hammer, he went on into the pantry.

The moon was so far down now, that only a white glimmer of light showed
him the faint outline of things; but his keen little nose guided him.
There was half a cheese on the swinging shelf, with all the bread that
had been left from supper. He broke off great pieces of each in eager
haste. Then he found a crock of goat's milk. Lifting it to his mouth, he
drank with big, quick gulps until he had to stop for breath. Just as
he was about to raise it to his lips again, some instinct of danger made
him look up. There in the doorway stood Brossard, bigger and darker and
more threatening than he had ever seemed before.

[Illustration: "IT FELL TO THE FLOOR WITH A CRASH."]

A frightened little gasp was all that the child had strength to give. He
turned so sick and faint that his nerveless fingers could no longer hold
the crock. It fell to the floor with a crash, and the milk spattered all
over the pantry. Jules was too terrified to utter a sound. It was
Brossard who made the outcry. Jules could only shut his eyes and crouch
down trembling, under the shelf. The next instant he was dragged out,
and Brossard's merciless strap fell again and again on the poor
shrinking little body, that writhed under the cruel blows.

Once more Jules dragged himself up-stairs to his cot, this time bruised
and sore, too exhaus