black band on your forehead? You have been
wounded!"

"A mere nothing," said the smith, "really nothing. Do not think of it. I
will tell you all about that presently. But first, I have things of
importance to communicate."

"Come into my room, then; we shall be alone," Mother Bunch, as she went
before Agricola.

Notwithstanding the expression of uneasiness which was visible on the
countenance of Agricola, he could not forbear smiling with pleasure as he
entered the room and looked around him.

"Excellent, my poor sister! this is how I would always have you lodged. I
recognize here the hand of Mdlle. de Cardoville. What a heart! what a
noble mind!--Dost know, she wrote to me the day before yesterday, to
thank me for what I had done for her, and sent me a gold pin (very
plain), which she said I need not hesitate to accept, as it had no other
value but that of having been worn by her mother! You can't tell how much
I was affected by the delicacy of this gift!"

"Nothing must astonish you from a heart like hers," answered the
hunchback. "But the wound--the wound?"

"Presently, my good sister; I have so many things to tell you. Let us
begin by what is most pressing, for I want you to give me some good
advice in a very serious case. You know how much confidence I have in
your excellent heart and judgment. And then, I have to ask of you a
service--oh! a great service," added the smith, in an earnest, and almost
solemn tone, which astonished his hearer. "Let us begin with what is not
personal to myself."

"Speak quickly."

"Since my mother went with Gabriel to the little country curacy he has
obtained, and since my father lodges with Marshal Simon and the young
ladies, I have resided, you know, with my mates, at M. Hardy's factory,
in the common dwelling-house. Now, this morning but first, I must tell
you that M. Hardy, who has lately returned from a journey, is again
absent for a few days on business. This morning, then, at the hour of
breakfast, I remained at work a little after the last stroke of the bell;
I was leaving the workshop to go to our eating-room, when I saw entering
the courtyard, a lady who had just got out of a hackney-coach. I remarked
that she was fair, though her veil was half down; she had a mild and
pretty countenance, and her dress was that of a fashionable lady. Struck
with her paleness, and her anxious, frightened air, I asked her if she
wanted anything. 'Sir,' said she to me, in a trembling v