d,
by way of still greater precaution, bolted and barred it, as he was
accustomed to do at night. During this time the abbe had chosen his
place for listening at his ease. He removed his seat into a corner of
the room, where he himself would be in deep shadow, while the light
would be fully thrown on the narrator; then, with head bent down and
hands clasped, or rather clinched together, he prepared to give his
whole attention to Caderousse, who seated himself on the little stool,
exactly opposite to him.

"Remember, this is no affair of mine," said the trembling voice of La
Carconte, as though through the flooring of her chamber she viewed the
scene that was enacting below.

"Enough, enough!" replied Caderousse; "say no more about it; I will take
all the consequences upon myself." And he began his story.

Chapter 27. The Story.

"First, sir," said Caderousse, "you must make me a promise."

"What is that?" inquired the abbe.

"Why, if you ever make use of the details I am about to give you, that
you will never let any one know that it was I who supplied them; for the
persons of whom I am about to talk are rich and powerful, and if they
only laid the tips of their fingers on me, I should break to pieces like
glass."

"Make yourself easy, my friend," replied the abbe. "I am a priest, and
confessions die in my breast. Recollect, our only desire is to carry
out, in a fitting manner, the last wishes of our friend. Speak, then,
without reserve, as without hatred; tell the truth, the whole truth; I
do not know, never may know, the persons of whom you are about to speak;
besides, I am an Italian, and not a Frenchman, and belong to God, and
not to man, and I shall shortly retire to my convent, which I have
only quitted to fulfil the last wishes of a dying man." This positive
assurance seemed to give Caderousse a little courage.

"Well, then, under these circumstances," said Caderousse, "I will, I
even believe I ought to undeceive you as to the friendship which poor
Edmond thought so sincere and unquestionable."

"Begin with his father, if you please." said the abbe; "Edmond talked to
me a great deal about the old man for whom he had the deepest love."

"The history is a sad one, sir," said Caderousse, shaking his head;
"perhaps you know all the earlier part of it?"

"Yes." answered the abbe; "Edmond related to me everything until the
moment when he was arrested in a small cabaret close to Marseilles."

"At La R