en years and a half old. This
recollection excited the more highly his solicitude for the unhappy
creature whose narration he had just heard.

CHAPTER IV.

THE CHOURINEUR'S HISTORY.

The reader has not forgotten the two guests at the _tapis-franc_ who
were watched so closely by the third individual who had come into the
cabaret. We have said that one of these fellows, who had on a Greek cap,
and concealed his left hand with much care, asked the ogress if the
Schoolmaster and Gros-Boiteux had not arrived.

During the story of the Goualeuse, which they could not overhear, they
had been constantly talking in a very low tone, throwing occasional
hurried glances at the door. He who wore the Greek cap said to his
comrade, "The Gros-Boiteux does not 'show,' nor the Schoolmaster."

"Perhaps the Skeleton has 'done for him,' and made off with the 'swag.'"

"A precious 'go' that would be for us, who 'laid the plant,' and look
out for our 'snacks,'" replied the other.

The newcomer, who observed the two men, was seated too far off to hear a
word they said, but, after having cautiously consulted a small paper
concealed at the bottom of his cap, he appeared satisfied with his
remarks, rose from the table, and said to the ogress, who was sleeping
at the bar, with her feet on the stove, and her great cat on her knee:

"I say, Mother Ponisse, I shall soon be back again; take care of my
pitcher and my plate; I don't want any one to make free with them."

"Make yourself easy, my fine fellow," said Mother Ponisse; "if your
plate and pitcher are empty, no one will touch them."

The newcomer laughed loudly at the joke of the ogress, and then slipped
out, so that his departure was unnoticed. At that moment when this man
retired, and before the door could be shut, Rodolph saw the
charcoal-dealer, whose black face and tall form we have already alluded
to, and he had just time to manifest to him, by an impatient gesture,
how much he disliked his watchful attendance; but the charcoal-man did
not appear to heed this in the least, and still kept hanging about the
_tapis-franc_. The countenance of the Goualeuse became still more
saddened; with her back to the wall, her head drooping on her bosom, her
full blue eyes gazing mechanically about her, the unfortunate being
seemed bowed down with the weight of her oppressive thoughts. Two or
three times, having met Rodolph's fixed look, she turned away, unable to
account to herself for t