in my purpose; he must give me some work,
however insignificant it might be. I got a small ring to finish. On my
taking the work to him, he fixed his keen glittering eyes upon me as if
he would read the very depths of my soul. Then he said, 'You are a good
clever journeyman; you may come to me and help me in my shop. I will
pay you well; you shall be satisfied with me.' Cardillac kept his word.
I had been several weeks with him before I saw Madelon; she was at that
time, if I mistake not, in the country, staying, with a female relative
of Cardillac's; but at length she came. O Heaven! O God! what did I
feel when I saw the sweet angel? Has any man ever loved as I do? And
now--O Madelon!"

Olivier was so distressed he could not go on. Holding both hands before
his face, he sobbed violently, But at length, fighting down with an
effort the sharp pain that shook him, he went on with his story.

"Madelon looked upon me with friendly eyes. Her visits into the
workshop grew more and more frequent. I was enraptured to perceive that
she loved me. Notwithstanding the strict watch her father kept upon us
many a stolen pressure of the hand served as a token of the mutual
understanding arrived at between us; Cardillac did not appear to notice
anything. I intended first to win his favour, and, if I could gain my
mastership, then to woo for Madelon. One day, as I was about to begin
work, Cardillac came to me, his face louring darkly with anger and
scornful contempt 'I don't want your services any longer,' he began,
'so out you go from my house this very hour; and never show yourself in
my sight again. Why I can't do with you here any longer, I have no need
to tell you. For you, you poor devil, the sweet fruit at which you are
stretching out your hand hangs too high.' I attempted to speak, but he
laid hold upon me with a powerful grasp and threw me out of doors, so
that I fell to the floor and severely wounded my head and arm. I left
the house hotly indignant and furious with the stinging pain; at last I
found a good-natured acquaintance in the remotest corner of the
Faubourg St. Martin, who received me into his garret. But I had neither
ease nor rest. Every night I used to lurk about Cardillac's house
deluding myself with the fancy that Madelon would hear my sighing and
lamenting, and that she would perhaps find a way to speak to me out of
the window unheard. All sorts of confused plans were revolving in my
brain, which I hoped to pe