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among the old scenery of a theatre. The Durande passed close to a cutter which had cast anchor for safety. It was the _Shealtiel_ of Guernsey. The master of the cutter remarked the high speed of the steam-vessel. It struck him also, that she was not in her exact course. She seemed to him to bear to westward too much. The apparition of this vessel under full steam in the fog surprised him. Towards two o'clock the weather had become so thick that the captain was obliged to leave the bridge, and plant himself near the steersman. The sun had vanished, and all was fog. A sort of ashy darkness surrounded the ship. They were navigating in a pale shroud. They could see neither sky nor water. There was not a breath of wind. The can of turpentine suspended under the bridge, between the paddle-boxes, did not even oscillate. The passengers had become silent. The Parisian, however, hummed between his teeth the song of Beranger--"_Un jour le bon Dieu s'eveillant_." One of the St. Malo passengers addressed him: "You are from Paris, sir?" "Yes, sir. _Il mit la tete a la fenetre._" "What do they do in Paris?" "_Leur planete a peri, peut-etre._--In Paris, sir, things are going on very badly." "Then it's the same ashore as at sea." "It is true; we have an abominable fog here." "One which might involve us in misfortunes." The Parisian exclaimed: "Yes; and why all these misfortunes in the world? Misfortunes! What are they sent for, these misfortunes? What use do they serve? There was the fire at the Odeon theatre, and immediately a number of families thrown out of employment. Is that just? I don't know what is your religion, sir, but I am puzzled by all this." "So am I," said the St. Malo man. "Everything that happens here below," continued the Parisian, "seems to go wrong. It looks as if Providence, for some reason, no longer watched over the world." The St. Malo man scratched the top of his head, like one making an effort to understand. The Parisian continued: "Our guardian angel seems to be absent. There ought to be a decree against celestial absenteeism. He is at his country-house, and takes no notice of us; so all gets in disorder. It is evident that this guardian is not in the government; he is taking holiday, leaving some vicar--some seminarist angel, some wretched creature with sparrows'-wings--to look after affairs." Captain Clubin, who had approached the speakers during this conv
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