was only a sort of humming or
chanting. Immediately there was a clapping of hands, a flutter of female
voices, and delighted exclamations of children.

"Oh, it's a dancing bear, it's a dancing bear!" they cried.

"Is it Pito?" asked one.

"Is it Adrienne?" cried another.

"But no; I'll bet it's Victor!" exclaimed a third. As the man and the
bear came nearer, they saw it was neither of these. The man's voice
was not unpleasant; it had a rolling, crooning sort of sound, a little
weird, as though he had lived where men see few of their kind and have
much to do with animals.

He was bearded, but young; his hair grew low on his forehead, and,
although it was summer time, a fur cap was set far back, like a fez,
upon his black curly hair. His forehead was corrugated, like that of a
man of sixty who had lived a hard life; his eyes were small, black and
piercing. He wore a thick, short coat, a red sash about his waist, a
blue flannel shirt, and a loose red scarf, like a handkerchief, at his
throat. His feet were bare, and his trousers were rolled half way up to
his knee. In one hand he carried a short pole with a steel pike in it,
in the other a rope fastened to a ring in the bear's nose.

The bear, a huge brown animal, upright on his hind legs, was dancing
sideways along the road, keeping time to the lazy notes of his leader's
voice.

In front of the Hotel France they halted, and the bear danced round and
round in a ring, his eyes rolling savagely, his head shaking from side
to side in a bad-tempered way.

Suddenly some one cried out: "It's Vanne Castine! It's Vanne!"

People crowded nearer: there was a flurry of exclamations, and then
Christine took a few steps forward where she could see the man's face,
and as swiftly drew back into the crowd, pale and distraite.

The man watched her until she drew away behind a group, which was
composed of Ferrol, her brother and her sister Sophie. He dropped no
note of his song, and the bear kept jigging on. Children and elders
threw coppers, which he picked up, with a little nod of his head, a
malicious sort of smile on his lips. He kept a vigilant eye on the bear,
however, and his pole was pointed constantly towards it. After about
five minutes of this entertainment he moved along up the road. He spoke
no word to anybody though there were some cries of greeting, but passed
on, still singing the monotonous song, followed by a crowd of children.
Presently he turned a corner, an