ve--ought to be well pleased when capital falls into the hands of an
active, fair-minded man.... If he shows no pity for Salvat, it is
because he really believes in the necessity of an example."

That same day Thomas, after leaving the works and while threading his way
through the toilsome hive-like Marcadet district, had overtaken Madame
Theodore and little Celine, who were wandering on in great distress. It
appeared that they had just called upon Toussaint, who had been unable to
lend them even such a trifle as ten sous. Since Salvat's arrest, the
woman and the child had been forsaken and suspected by one and all.
Driven forth from their wretched lodging, they were without food and
wandered hither and thither dependent on chance alms. Never had greater
want and misery fallen on defenceless creatures.

"I told them to come up here, father," said Thomas, "for I thought that
one might pay their landlord a month's rent, so that they might go home
again.... Ah! there's somebody coming now--it's they, no doubt."

Guillaume had felt angry with himself whilst listening to his son, for he
had not thought of the poor creatures. It was the old story: the man
disappears, and the woman and the child find themselves in the streets,
starving. Whenever Justice strikes a man her blow travels beyond him,
fells innocent beings and kills them.

Madame Theodore came in, humble and timid, scared like a luckless
creature whom life never wearies of persecuting. She was becoming almost
blind, and little Celine had to lead her. The girl's fair, thin face wore
its wonted expression of shrewd intelligence, and even now, however
woeful her rags, it was occasionally brightened by a childish smile.

Pierre and Marie, who were both there, felt extremely touched. Near them
was Madame Mathis, young Victor's mother, who had come to help Mere-Grand
with the mending of some house-linen. She went out by the day in this
fashion among a few families, and was thus enabled to give her son an
occasional franc or two. Guillaume alone questioned Madame Theodore.

"Ah! monsieur," she stammered, "who could ever have thought Salvat
capable of such a thing, he who's so good and so humane? Still it's true,
since he himself has admitted it to the magistrate.... For my part I
told everybody that he was in Belgium. I wasn't quite sure of it, still
I'm glad that he didn't come back to see us; for if he had been arrested
at our place I should have lost my senses.... W