rother, I follow you," said Du Bouchage, sighing.

"Yes, I understand; the last adieux to the window; but you have also one
for me, brother."

Henri passed his arms round the neck of his brother, who leaned down to
embrace him.

"No!" cried he. "I will accompany you to the gates," and with a last
look toward the window, he followed his brother.

Chicot continued to watch. Gradually every one disappeared, and the
street was deserted. Then one of the windows of the opposite house was
opened, and a man looked out.

"There is no longer any one, madame," said he; "you may leave your
hiding-place and go down to your own room," and lighting a lamp, he gave
it into a hand stretched out to receive it.

Chicot looked earnestly, but as he caught sight of her pale but sublime
face, he shuddered and sat down, entirely subjugated, in his turn, by
the melancholy influence of the house.

CHAPTER XVII.

CHICOT'S PURSE.

Chicot passed the remainder of the night dreaming in his armchair, for
the face of that woman brought before him a number of illustrious shades
connected with many happy or terrible souvenirs, and he who had
regretted his sleep on first arriving, now thought no more of it.

When morning dawned he got up, threw a cloak over his shoulders, and
with the firmness of a sage, examined the bottom of his purse and his
shoes. Chicot, a man of lively imagination, had made in the principal
beam which ran through his house a cavity, a foot and a half long and
six inches wide, which he used as a strong box, to contain 1,000 crowns
in gold. He had made the following calculation: "I spend the twentieth
part of one of these crowns every day; therefore I have enough to last
me for 20,000 days. I cannot live so long as that, but I may live half
as long, and as I grow older my wants and expenses will increase, and
this will give me twenty-five or thirty good years to live, and that is
enough." He was therefore tranquil as to the future.

This morning on opening his store, "Ventre de biche!" he cried, "times
are hard, and I need not be delicate with Henri. This money did not come
from him, but from an old uncle. If it were still night, I would go and
get 100 crowns from the king; but now I have no resource but in myself
or in Gorenflot."

This idea of drawing money from Gorenflot made him smile. "It would be
odd," thought he, "if Gorenflot should refuse 100 crowns to the friend
through whom he was appointed prior to t