n't time to-day."

"Only a little bit,--just let me tease him for five minutes?"

"Another time; I tell you that I want to return up-stairs as quickly as
possible."

"Why, then, do you want to open the door of his apartment?"

"That's no affair of yours. Come, now, have done with this. Perhaps the
Martials are come by this time, and I must have some talk with them. So
be a good boy, and you sha'n't be sorry for it. Come along."

"I must love you very much, Chouette, for you make me do just what you
like," said Tortillard, slowly advancing.

The dim, wavering light of the candle, which but imperfectly lighted
this gloomy way, reflected the black profile of this hideous brat on the
slimy walls, which were full of crevices and reeking with damp. At the
end of this passage, through the half obscurity, might be seen the low
and crumbling arch of the entrance to the cellar, the thick door
strengthened with iron bars, and, standing out in the shade, the red
shawl and white cap of the Chouette.

By the united exertions of the two, the door opened harshly on its rusty
hinges; a puff of humid vapour escaped from this den, as dark as
midnight. The light, placed on the ground, threw its faint beams on the
first steps of the stone staircase, the bottom of which was completely
lost in the darkness. A cry, or, rather, a savage roar, came from the
depths of the cave.

"Ah, there's _fourline_ wishing his mamma good-morning!" said the
Chouette, with a sneer.

And she descended several steps, in order to conceal her basket in some
hole.

"I'm hungry!" exclaimed the Schoolmaster, in a voice that shook with
rage; "do you wish to kill me like a mad dog?"

"What's the deary lovey hungry?" said the Chouette, with a laugh of
mockery; "then smell its thumb."

There was a sound like that of a chain twisted violently; then a groan
of mute, repressed passion.

"Take care! Take care, or you'll have a bump in your leg, as you had at
Bouqueval farm, poor dear pa!" said Tortillard.

"He's right, the boy is,--keep yourself quiet, _fourline_," continued
the hag; "the ring and chain are solid, old No-Eyes, for they came from
Father Micou's, and he sells nothing but the best goods. It is your
fault, too; why did you allow yourself to be bound whilst you were
asleep? We only had then to put the ring and chain in this place, and
bring you down here in the cool to preserve you, old darling."

"That's a pity! He'll grow mouldy," said Tortill