berin; if it had not been for Barberin, I might have died of cold
and hunger when I was a baby. It was true he had taken me from Mother
Barberin to sell me to a stranger, but then he had no liking for me and
perhaps he was forced to do it for the money. After all it was through
him that I was finding my parents. So now I ought not to harbor any
bitterness against him.

I soon reached the Hotel du Cantal which was only a hotel in name, being
nothing better than a miserable lodging house.

"I want to see a man named Barberin; he comes from Chavanon," I said to
a dirty old woman who sat at a desk. She was very deaf and asked me to
repeat what I had said.

"Do you know a man named Barberin?" I shouted.

Then she threw up her hands to heaven so abruptly that the cat sleeping
on her knees sprang down in terror.

"Alas! Alas!" she cried, then she added: "Are you the boy he was looking
for?"

"Oh, you know?" I cried excitedly. "Well, where's Barberin?"

"Dead," she replied, laconically.

I leaned on my harp.

"Dead!" I cried loud enough for her to hear. I was dazed. How should I
find my parents now?

"You're the boy they're looking for; I'm sure you are," said the old
woman again.

"Yes, yes, I'm the boy. Where's my family? Can you tell me?"

"I don't know any more than just what I've told you, my boy; I should
say my young gentleman."

"What did Barberin say about my parents? Oh, do tell me," I said
imploringly.

She threw her arms up towards heaven.

"Ah, if that isn't a story!"

"Well, tell it me. What is it?"

At this moment a woman who looked like a servant came forward. The
mistress of the Hotel du Cantal turned to her: "If this isn't an affair!
This boy here, this young gentleman, is the man Barberin talked so much
about."

"But didn't Barberin speak to you about my family?" I asked.

"I should say so--more than a hundred times. A very rich family it is,
that you've got, my boy, my young gentleman."

"And where do they live and what is their name?"

"Barberin wouldn't tell us anything. He was that mysterious. He wanted
to get all the reward for himself."

"Didn't he leave any papers?"

"No, nothing except one that said he came from Chavanon. If we hadn't
found that, we couldn't have let his wife know he's dead."

"Oh, you did let her know?"

"Sure, why not?"

I could learn nothing from the old woman. I turned slowly towards the
door.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Back to my