her feet as if by a spring, and gave a loud cry.

D'Harmental thought that a fit of hysterics was following the fainting.
He was truly frightened, there was such an accent of reality in the
scream that the poor woman gave.

"It is nothing," said Boniface, "I have only just emptied the
water-bottle down her back. That is what brought her to; you saw that
she did not know how to manage it. Well, what?" continued the pitiless
fellow, seeing Madame Denis look angrily at him; "it is I; do you not
recognize me, Mother Denis? It is your little Boniface, who loves you
so."

"Madame," said D'Harmental, much embarrassed at the situation, "I am
truly distressed at what has passed."

"Oh! monsieur," cried Madame Denis in tears, "I am indeed unfortunate."

"Come, come; do not cry, Mother Denis, you are already wet enough," said
Boniface; "you had better go and change your linen; there is nothing so
unhealthy as wet clothes."

"The child is full of sense," said Brigaud, "and I think you had better
follow his advice."

"If I might join my prayers to those of the abbe," said D'Harmental, "I
should beg you, madame, not to inconvenience yourself for us. Besides,
we were just going to take leave of you."

"And you, also, abbe?" said Madame Denis, with a distressed look at
Brigaud.

"As for me," said Brigaud, who did not seem to fancy the part of
comforter, "I am expected at the Hotel Colbert, and I must leave you."

"Adieu, then," said Madame Denis, making a curtsey, but the water
trickling down her clothes took away a great part of its dignity.

"Adieu, mother," said Boniface, throwing his arms round her neck with
the assurance of a spoiled child. "Have you nothing to say to Maitre
Joulu?"

"Adieu, mauvais sujet," replied the poor woman, embracing her son, and
yielding to that attraction which a mother cannot resist; "adieu, and be
steady."

"As an image, mother, on condition that you will give us a nice little
dish of sweets for dinner."

He joined the Abbe Brigaud and D'Harmental, who were already on the
landing.

"Well, well," said the abbe, lifting his hand quickly to his waistcoat
pocket, "what are you doing there?"

"Oh, I was only looking if there was not a crown in your pocket for your
friend Boniface."

"Here." said the abbe, "here is one, and now leave us alone."

"Papa Brigaud," said Boniface, in the effusion of his gratitude, "you
have the heart of a cardinal, and if the king only makes you an
archb