s excellent tutor.

"Ah, my unfortunate child! have I found you at last?"

The worthy Moronval could say no more; and, on seeing him throw his long
arms eagerly about the neck of the little black boy, the inspector of
police could not help thinking: "At last I have seen one teacher who
loves his pupils!" Madou, however, displayed the utmost indifference.
His face was positively without expression; not a ray of shame or of
apprehension was visible. His eyes were wide open, but he seemed to
see nothing; his face was pale--and the pallor of a negro is something
appalling. He was covered with mud from head to foot, and looked like
some amphibious animal who, after swimming in the water, had rolled in
the mud on the shore. No hat, and no shoes. What had happened to him? He
alone could have told you, and he would not speak. The policeman said,
that, making his rounds the evening before, he had found the boy hidden
in a lime-kiln, that he was half-starved, and stupefied by the excessive
heat. Why had he lingered in Paris?

This question Moronval did not ask; nor, indeed, did he speak one word
to Madou during their long drive to the academy. The boy was so worn out
and crushed that he sank into a corner, while Moronval glanced at him
occasionally with an expression of rage that at any other time would
have terrified him.

Moronval's glance was like a keen rapier, with a flash like lightning,
crossing a poor little broken blade, shivered and rusty.

When Jack saw the pitiful black face, the rags and the dirt, he could
hardly recognize the little king. Madou, as he passed, said good morning
in so mournful a tone that Jack's eyes filled with tears. The children
saw nothing more of the black boy that day. Recitations went on in their
usual routine, and at intervals the sound of a lash was heard, and heavy
groans from Moronval's private study. Madame Moronval turned pale, and
the book she held trembled. Even when all was again silent, Jack fancied
that he still heard the groans.

At dinner the principal was radiant, though seemingly exhausted by
fatigue. "The little wretch!" he said to Dr. Hirsch and his wife. "The
little wretch! Just, see the state he has put me into!"

That night Jack found the bed next to his occupied. Poor Madou had put
his master into such a state that he himself had not been able to go
to bed without assistance. Madame Moronval and Dr. Hirsch were there
watching the lad, whose sleep was broken by those