ons of the
viel le galanterie and to which the entree was difficult.

The fortune of the Brevilles--all in Government Funds--was reported to
yield them an income of five hundred thousand francs.

The six passengers occupied the upper end of the conveyance, the
representatives of revenued society, serene in the consciousness of its
strength--honest well-to-do people possessed of Religion and Principles.

By some strange chance all the women were seated on the same side, the
Countess having two sisters of Mercy for neighbors, wholly occupied in
fingering their long rosaries and mumbling Paters and Aves. One of them
was old and so deeply pitted with the small-pox that she looked as if
she had received a charge of grape shot full in the face; the other was
very shadowy and frail, with a pretty unhealthy little face, a narrow
phthisical chest, consumed by that devouring faith which creates martyrs
and ecstatics.

Seated opposite to the two nuns were a man and woman who excited a good
deal of attention.

The man, who was well known, was Cornudet, "the demon," the terror of
all respectable, law-abiding people. For twenty years he had dipped his
great red beard into the beer mugs of all the democratic cafe's. In the
company of kindred spirits he had managed to run through a comfortable
little fortune inherited from his father, a confectioner, and he looked
forward with impatience to the Republic, when he should obtain the
well-merited reward for so many revolutionary draughts. On the Fourth of
September--probably through some practical joke--he understood that he
had been appointed prefect, but on attempting to enter upon his duties
the clerks, who had remained sole masters of the offices, refused to
recognize him, and he was constrained to retire. For the rest, he was a
good fellow, inoffensive and serviceable, and had busied himself with
incomparable industry in organizing the defense of the town; had had
holes dug all over the plain, cut down all the young trees in the
neighboring woods, scattered pitfalls up and down all the high roads,
and at the threatened approach of the enemy--satisfied with his
preparations--had fallen back with all haste on the town. He now
considered that he would be more useful in Havre, where fresh
entrenchments would soon become necessary.

The woman, one of the so-called "gay" sisterhood, was noted for her
precocious stoutness, which had gained her the nickname of "Boule de
Suif"--"ball of