Theold"Sauvage"stoodbeforeherruineddwelling，armedwithhergun，herson’sgun，forfearoneofthosemenmightescape.
　　Whenshesawthatitwasended，shethrewherweaponintothebrasier.
　　Aloudreportfollowed.
　　Peoplewerecoming，thepeasants，thePrussians.
　　Theyfoundthewomanseatedonthetrunkofatree，calmandsatisfied.
　　AGermanofficer，butspeakingFrenchlikeasonofFrance，demanded：
　　"Whereareyoursoldiers？"
　　Shereachedherbonyarmtowardtheredheapoffirewhichwasalmostoutandansweredwithastrongvoice：
　　"There！"
　　Theycrowdedroundher.ThePrussianasked：
　　"Howdidittakefire？"
　　"ItwasIwhosetitonfire."
　　Theydidnotbelieveher，theythoughtthatthesuddendisasterhadmadehercrazy.Whileallpressedroundandlistened，shetoldthestoryfrombeginningtoend，fromthearrivalofthelettertothelastshriekofthemenwhowereburnedwithherhouse，andneveromittedadetail.
　　Whenshehadfinished，shedrewtwopiecesofpaperfromherpocket，and，inordertodistinguishthembythelastgleamsofthefire，sheagainadjustedherspectacles.Thenshesaid，showingone：
　　"That，thatisthedeathofVictor."Showingtheother，sheadded，indicatingtheredruinswithabendofthehead："Herearetheirnames，sothatyoucanwritehome."Shequietlyheldasheetofpaperouttotheofficer，whoheldherbytheshoulders，andshecontinued：
　　"Youmustwritehowithappened，andyoumustsaytotheirmothersthatitwasIwhodidthat，VictoireSimon，laSauvage！Donotforget."
　　TheofficershoutedsomeordersinGerman.Theyseizedher，theythrewheragainstthewallsofherhouse，stillhot.Thentwelvemendrewquicklyupbeforeher，attwentypaces.Shedidnotmove.Shehadunderstood;shewaited.
　　Anorderrangout，followedinstantlybyalongreport.Abelatedshotwentoffbyitself，aftertheothers.
　　Theoldwomandidnotfall.Shesankasthoughtheyhadcutoffherlegs.
　　ThePrussianofficerapproached.Shewasalmostcutintwo，andinherwitheredhandsheheldherletterbathedwithblood.
　　MyfriendServaladded：
　　"ItwasbywayofreprisalthattheGermansdestroyedthechateauofthedistrict，whichbelongedtome."
　　Ithoughtofthemothersofthosefourfinefellowsburnedinthathouseandofthehorribleheroismofthatothermothershotagainstthewall.
　　AndIpickedupalittlestone，stillblackenedbytheflames.
　　EPIPHANY
　　IshouldsayIdidrememberthatEpiphanysupperduringthewar！
　　exclaimedCountdeGarens，anarmycaptain.
　　Iwasquartermasterofcavalryatthetime，andforafortnighthadbeenscoutinginfrontoftheGermanadvanceguard.TheeveningbeforewehadcutdownafewUhlansandhadlostthreemen，oneofwhomwasthatpoorlittleRaudeville.YourememberJosephdeRaudeville，ofcourse.
　　Well，onthatdaymycommandingofficerorderedmetotakesixtroopersandtogoandoccupythevillageofPorterin，wheretherehadbeenfiveskirmishesinthreeweeks，andtoholditallnight.Therewerenottwentyhousesleftstanding，notadozenhousesinthatwasps’nest.SoItooktentroopersandsetoutaboutfouro’clock，andatfiveo’clock，whileitwasstillpitchdark，wereachedthefirsthousesofPorterin.
　　IhaltedandorderedMarchas——youknowPierredeMarchas，whoafterwardmarriedlittleMartel—Auvelin，thedaughteroftheMarquisdeMartel—
　　Auvelin——togoaloneintothevillage，andtoreporttomewhathesaw.
　　Ihadselectednothingbutvolunteers，allmenofgoodfamily.Itispleasantwhenondutynottobeforcedtobeonintimatetermswithunpleasantfellows.ThisMarchaswasassmartaspossible，cunningasafoxandsuppleasaserpent.HecouldscentthePrussiansasadogcanscentahare，coulddiscoverfoodwhereweshouldhavediedofhungerwithouthim，andobtainedinformationfromeverybody，andinformationwhichwasalwaysreliable，withincrediblecleverness.
　　Intenminuteshereturned."Allright，"hesaid;"therehavebeennoPrussianshereforthreedays.Itisasinisterplace，isthisvillage.
　　IhavebeentalkingtoaSisterofMercy，whoiscaringforfourorfivewoundedmeninanabandonedconvent."
　　Iorderedthemtorideon，andweenteredtheprincipalstreet.Ontherightandleftwecouldvaguelyseerooflesswalls，whichwerehardlyvisibleintheprofounddarkness.Hereandtherealightwasburninginaroom;somefamilyhadremainedtokeepitshousestandingaswellastheywereable;afamilyofbraveorofpoorpeople.Therainbegantofall，afine，icycoldrain，whichfrozeasitfellonourcloaks.
　　Thehorsesstumbledagainststones，againstbeams，againstfurniture.
　　Marchasguidedus，goingbeforeusonfoot，andleadinghishorsebythebridle.
　　"Whereareyoutakingusto？"Iaskedhim.Andhereplied："Ihaveaplaceforustolodgein，andararegoodone."Andwepresentlystoppedbeforeasmallhouse，evidentlybelongingtosomeproprietorofthemiddleclass.Itstoodonthestreet，wasquiteinclosed，andhadagardenintherear.
　　Marchasforcedopenthelockbymeansofabigstonewhichhepickedupnearthegardengate;thenhemountedthesteps，smashedinthefrontdoorwithhisfeetandshoulders，litabitofwaxcandle，whichhewasneverwithout，andwentbeforeusintothecomfortableapartmentsofsomerichprivateindividual，guidinguswithadmirableassurance，asifhelivedinthishousewhichhenowsawforthefirsttime.
　　Twotroopersremainedoutsidetotakecareofourhorses，andMarchassaidtostoutPonderel，whofollowedhim："Thestablesmustbeontheleft;Isawthataswecamein;goandputtheanimalsupthere，forwedonotneedthem";andthen，turningtome，hesaid："Giveyourorders，confounditall！"
　　Thisfellowalwaysastonishedme，andIrepliedwithalaugh："Iwillpostmysentinelsatthecountryapproachesandwillreturntoyouhere."
　　"Howmanymenareyougoingtotake？"
　　"Five.Theotherswillrelievethematfiveo’clockintheevening."
　　"Verywell.Leavemefourtolookafterprovisions，todothecookingandtosetthetable.Iwillgoandfindoutwherethewineishidden."
　　Iwentoff，toreconnoitrethedesertedstreetsuntiltheyendedintheopencountry，soastopostmysentriesthere.
　　HalfanhourlaterIwasback，andfoundMarchaslounginginagreateasy—chair，thecoveringofwhichhehadtakenoff，fromloveofluxury，ashesaid.Hewaswarminghisfeetatthefireandsmokinganexcellentcigar，whoseperfumefilledtheroom.Hewasalone，hiselbowsrestingonthearmsofthechair，hisheadsunkbetweenhisshoulders，hischeeksflushed，hiseyesbright，andlookingdelighted.
　　Iheardthenoiseofplatesanddishesinthenextroom，andMarchassaidtome，smilinginacontentedmanner："Thisisfamous;Ifoundthechampagneundertheflightofstepsoutside，thebrandy——fiftybottlesoftheveryfinestinthekitchengardenunderapeartree，whichdidnotseemtometobequitestraightwhenIlookedatitbythelightofmylantern.Asforsolids，wehavetwofowls，agoose，aduck，andthreepigeons.Theyarebeingcookedatthismoment.Itisadelightfuldistrict."
　　Isatdownoppositehim，andthefireinthegratewasburningmynoseandcheeks."Wheredidyoufindthiswood？"Iasked."Splendidwood，"
　　hereplied."Theowner’scarriage.Itisthepaintwhichiscausingallthisflame，anessenceofpunchandvarnish.Acapitalhouse！"
　　Ilaughed，forIsawthecreaturewasfunny，andhewenton："FancythisbeingtheEpiphany！Ihavehadabeanputintothegoosedressing;butthereisnoqueen;itisreallyveryannoying！"AndIrepeatedlikeanecho："Itisannoying，butwhatdoyouwantmetodointhematter？"
　　"Tofindsome，ofcourse.""Somewomen.Women？——youmustbemad？""I
　　managedtofindthebrandyunderthepeartree，andthechampagneunderthesteps;andyettherewasnothingtoguideme，whileasforyou，apetticoatisasurebait.Goandlook，oldfellow."
　　Helookedsograve，soconvinced，thatIcouldnottellwhetherhewasjokingornot，andsoIreplied："Lookhere，Marchas，areyouhavingajokewithme？""Ineverjokeonduty.""Butwherethedevildoyouexpectmetofindanywomen？""Whereyoulike;theremustbetwoorthreeremainingintheneighborhood，soferretthemoutandbringthemhere."
　　Igotup，foritwastoohotinfrontofthefire，andMarchaswentoff：
　　"Doyouwantanidea？""Yes.""Goandseethepriest.""Thepriest？
　　Whatfor？""Askhimtosupper，andbeghimtobringawomanwithhim."
　　"Thepriest！Awoman！Ha！ha！ha！"
　　ButMarchascontinuedwithextraordinarygravity："Iamnotlaughing;goandfindthepriestandtellhimhowwearesituated，and，ashemustbehorriblydull，hewillcome.Buttellhimthatwewantonewomanatleast，alady，ofcourse，sincewe，areallmenoftheworld.Heissuretoknowhisfemaleparishionersonthetipsofhisfingers，andifthereisonetosuitus，andyoumanageitwell，hewillsuggesthertoyou."
　　"Come，come，Marchas，whatareyouthinkingof？""MydearGarens，youcandothisquitewell.Itwillevenbeveryfunny.Wearewellbred，byJove！andwewillputonourmostdistinguishedmannersandourgrandeststyle.Telltheabbewhoweare，makehimlaugh，softenhisheart，coaxhimandpersuadehim！""No，itisimpossible."
　　Hedrewhischairclosetomine，andasheknewmyspecialweakness，thescampcontinued："Justthinkwhataswaggeringthingitwillbetodoandhowamusingtotellabout;thewholearmywilltalkaboutit，anditwillgiveyouafamousreputation."
　　Ihesitated，fortheadventurerathertemptedme，andhepersisted：
　　"Come，mylittleGarens.Youaretheheadofthisdetachment，andyoualonecangoandcallontheheadofthechurchinthisneighborhood.
　　Ibegofyoutogo，andIpromiseyouthatafterthewarIwillrelatethewholeaffairinverseintheRevuedeDeuxMondes.Youowethismuchtoyourmen，foryouhavemadethemmarchenoughduringthelastmonth."
　　Igotupatlastandasked："Whereisthepriest’shouse？""Takethesecondturningattheendofthestreet，youwillseeanavenue，andattheendoftheavenueyouwillfindthechurch.Theparsonageisbesideit."AsIwentout，hecalledout："Tellhimthebilloffare，tomakehimhungry！"
　　Idiscoveredtheecclesiastic’slittlehousewithoutanydifficulty;itwasbythesideofalarge，uglybrickchurch.Iknockedatthedoorwithmyfist，astherewasneitherbellnorknocker，andaloudvoicefrominsideasked："Whoisthere？"TowhichIreplied："Aquartermasterofhussars."
　　Iheardthenoiseofboltsandofakeybeingturned，andfoundmyselffacetofacewithatallpriestwithalargestomach，thechestofaprizefighter，formidablehandsprojectingfromturned—upsleeves，aredface，andthelookofakindman.Igavehimamilitarysaluteandsaid：
　　"Good—day，MonsieurleCure."
　　Hehadfearedasurprise，somemarauders’ambush，andhesmiledashereplied："Good—day，myfriend;comein."Ifollowedhimintoasmallroomwitharedtiledfloor，inwhichasmallfirewasburning，verydifferenttoMarchas’furnace，andhegavemeachairandsaid："WhatcanIdoforyou？""Monsieur，allowmefirstofalltointroducemyself";andIgavehimmycard，whichhetookandreadhalfaloud："LeComtedeGarens."
　　Icontinued："Thereareelevenofushere，Monsieurl’Abbe，fiveonpicketduty，andsixinstalledatthehouseofanunknowninhabitant.
　　Thenamesofthesixare：Garens，myself;PierredeMarchas，LudovicdePonderel，Barond’Streillis，KarlMassouligny，thepainter’sson，andJosephHerbon，ayoungmusician.Ihavecometoaskyou，intheirnameandmyown，todousthehonorofsuppingwithus.ItisanEpiphanysupper，MonsieurleCure，andweshouldliketomakeitalittlecheerful."
　　Thepriestsmiledandmurmured："Itseemstometobehardlyasuitableoccasionforamusingone’sself."AndIreplied："Wearefightingduringtheday，monsieur.Fourteenofourcomradeshavebeenkilledinamonth，andthreefellaslateasyesterday.Itiswartime.Westakeourlifeateverymoment;havewenot，therefore，therighttoamuseourselvesfreely？WeareFrenchmen，weliketolaugh，andwecanlaugheverywhere.
　　Ourfatherslaughedonthescaffold！Thiseveningweshouldliketocheerourselvesupalittle，likegentlemen，andnotlikesoldiers;youunderstandme，Ihope.Arewewrong？"
　　Herepliedquickly："Youarequiteright，myfriend，andIacceptyourinvitationwithgreatpleasure."Thenhecalledout："Hermance！"
　　Anoldbent，wrinkled，horriblepeasantwomanappearedandsaid："Whatdoyouwant？""Ishallnotdineathome，mydaughter.""Whereareyougoingtodinethen？""Withsomegentlemen，thehussars."
　　Ifeltinclinedtosay："Bringyourservantwithyou，"justtoseeMarchas’face，butIdidnotventure，andcontinued："Doyouknowanyoneamongyourparishioners，maleorfemale，whomIcouldinviteaswell？"
　　Hehesitated，reflected，andthensaid：，"No，Idonotknowanybody！"
　　Ipersisted："Nobody！Come，monsieur，think;itwouldbeverynicetohavesomeladies，Imeantosay，somemarriedcouples！Iknownothingaboutyourparishioners.Thebakerandhiswife，thegrocer，the——the——
　　the——watchmaker——the——shoemaker——the——thedruggistwithMrs.Druggist.
　　Wehaveagoodspreadandplentyofwine，andweshouldbeenchantedtoleavepleasantrecollectionsofourselveswiththepeoplehere."
　　Thepriestthoughtagainforalongtime，andthensaidresolutely："No，thereisnobody."Ibegantolaugh."ByJove，MonsieurleCure，itisveryannoyingnottohaveanEpiphanyqueen，forwehavethebean.Come，think.Istherenotamarriedmayor，oramarrieddeputymayor，oramarriedmunicipalcouncillororaschoolmaster？""No，alltheladieshavegoneaway.""What，istherenotinthewholeplacesomegoodtradesman’swifewithhergoodtradesman，towhomwemightgivethispleasure，foritwouldbeapleasuretothem，agreatpleasureunderpresentcircumstances？"
　　But，suddenly，thecurebegantolaugh，andlaughedsoviolentlythathefairlyshook，andpresentlyexclaimed："Ha！ha！ha！Ihavegotwhatyouwant，yes.Ihavegotwhatyouwant！Ha！ha！ha！Wewilllaughandenjoyourselves，mychildren;wewillhavesomefun.Howpleasedtheladieswillbe，Isay，howdelightedtheywillbe！Ha！ha！Whereareyoustaying？"
　　Idescribedthehouse，andheunderstoodwhereitwas."Verygood，"hesaid."ItbelongstoMonsieurBertin—Lavaille.Iwillbethereinhalfanhour，withfourladies！Ha！ha！ha！fourladies！"
　　Hewentoutwithme，stilllaughing，andleftme，repeating："Thatiscapital;inhalfanhouratBertin—Lavaille’shouse."
　　Ireturnedquickly，verymuchastonishedandverymuchpuzzled."Coversforhowmany？"Marchasasked，assoonashesawme."Eleven.Therearesixofushussars，besidesthepriestandfourladies."Hewasthunderstruck，andIwastriumphant.Herepeated："Fourladies！Didyousay，fourladies？""Isaidfourwomen.""Realwomen？""Realwomen."
　　"Well，acceptmycompliments！""Iwill，forIdeservethem."
　　Hegotoutofhisarmchair，openedthedoor，andIsawabeautifulwhitetableclothonalongtable，roundwhichthreehussarsinblueapronsweresettingouttheplatesandglasses."Therearesomewomencoming！"
　　Marchascried.Andthethreemenbegantodanceandtocheerwithalltheirmight.
　　Everythingwasready，andwewerewaiting.Wewaitedfornearlyanhour，whileadelicioussmellofroastpoultrypervadedthewholehouse.Atlast，however，aknockagainsttheshuttersmadeusalljumpupatthesamemoment.StoutPonderelrantoopenthedoor，andinlessthanaminutealittleSisterofMercyappearedinthedoorway.Shewasthin，wrinkledandtimid，andsuccessivelygreetedthefourbewilderedhussarswhosawherenter.Behindher，thenoiseofstickssoundedonthetiledfloorinthevestibule，andassoonasshehadcomeintothedrawing—
　　room，Isawthreeoldheadsinwhitecaps，followingeachotheronebyone，whocamein，swayingwithdifferentmovements，oneincliningtotheright，whiletheotherinclinedtotheleft.Andthreeworthywomenappeared，limping，draggingtheirlegsbehindthem，crippledbyillnessanddeformedthrougholdage，threeinfirmoldwomen，pastservice，theonlythreepensionerswhowereabletowalkinthehomepresidedoverbySisterSaint—Benedict.
　　Shehadturnedroundtoherinvalids，fullofanxietyforthem，andthen，seeingmyquartermaster’sstripes，shesaidtome："Iammuchobligedtoyouforthinkingofthesepoorwomen.Theyhaveverylittlepleasureinlife，andyouareatthesametimegivingthemagreattreatanddoingthemagreathonor."
　　Isawthepriest，whohadremainedinthedarkhallway，andwaslaughingheartily，andIbegantolaughinmyturn，especiallywhenIsawMarchas’
　　face.Then，motioningthenuntotheseats，Isaid：
　　"Sitdown，sister;weareveryproudandveryhappythatyouhaveacceptedourunpretentiousinvitation."
　　Shetookthreechairswhichstoodagainstthewall，setthembeforethefire，ledherthreeoldwomentothem，settledthemonthem，tooktheirsticksandshawls，whichsheputintoacorner，andthen，pointingtothefirst，athinwomanwithanenormousstomach，whowasevidentlysufferingfromthedropsy，shesaid："ThisisMotherPaumelle;whosehusbandwaskilledbyfallingfromaroof，andwhosesondiedinAfrica;sheissixtyyearsold."Thenshepointedtoanother，atallwoman，whoseheadtrembledunceasingly："ThisisMotherJean—Jean，whoissixty—seven.Sheisnearlyblind，forherfacewasterriblysingedinafire，andherrightlegwashalfburnedoff."
　　Thenshepointedtothethird，asortofdwarf，withprotruding，round，stupideyes，whichsherolledincessantlyinalldirections，"ThisisLaPutois，anidiot.Sheisonlyforty—four."
　　IbowedtothethreewomenasifIwerebeingpresentedtosomeroyalhighnesses，andturningtothepriest，Isaid："Youareanexcellentman，Monsieurl’Abbe，towhomallofushereoweadebtofgratitude."
　　Everybodywaslaughing，infact，exceptMarchas，whoseemedfurious，andjustthenKarlMassoulignycried："SisterSaint—Benedict，supperisonthetable！"
　　Imadehergofirstwiththepriest，thenIhelpedupMotherPaumelle，whosearmItookanddraggedherintothenextroom，whichwasnoeasytask，forsheseemedheavierthanalumpofiron.
　　StoutPonderelgavehisarmtoMotherJean—Jean，whobemoanedhercrutch，andlittleJosephHerbontooktheidiot，LaPutois，tothedining—room，whichwasfilledwiththeodoroftheviands.
　　Assoonaswewereoppositeourplates，thesisterclappedherhandsthreetimes，and，withtheprecisionofsoldierspresentingarms，thewomenmadearapidsignofthecross，andthenthepriestslowlyrepeatedtheBenedictusinLatin.Thenwesatdown，andthetwofowlsappeared，broughtinbyMarchas，whochosetowaitattable，ratherthantositdownasaguesttothisridiculousrepast.
　　ButIcried："Bringthechampagneatonce！"andacorkflewoutwiththenoiseofapistol，andinspiteoftheresistanceofthepriestandofthekindsister，thethreehussars，sittingbythesideofthethreeinvalids，emptiedtheirthreefullglassesdowntheirthroatsbyforce.
　　Massouligny，whopossessedthefacultyofmakinghimselfathome，andofbeingongoodtermswitheveryone，whereverhewas，madelovetoMotherPaumelleinthedrollestmanner.Thedropsicalwoman，whohadretainedhercheerfulnessinspiteofhermisfortunes，answeredhimbanteringlyinahighfalsettovoicewhichappearedasifitwereputon，andshelaughedsoheartilyatherneighbor’sjokesthatitwasquitealarming.
　　LittleHerbonhadseriouslyundertakenthetaskofmakingtheidiotdrunk，andBarond’Streillis，whosewitswerenotalwaysparticularlysharp，wasquestioningoldJean—Jeanaboutthelife，thehabits，andtherulesofthehospital.
　　ThenunsaidtoMassoulignyinconsternation：
　　"Oh！oh！youwillmakeherill;praydonotmakeherlaughlikethat，monsieur.Oh！monsieur——"ThenshegotupandrushedatHerbontotakefromhimafullglasswhichhewashastilyemptyingdownLaPutois’
　　throat，whilethepriestshookwithlaughter，andsaidtothesister：
　　"Nevermind;justthisonce，itwillnothurtthem.Doleavethemalone."
　　Afterthetwofowlstheyatetheduck，whichwasflankedbythethreepigeonsandtheblackbird，andthenthegooseappeared，smoking，golden—
　　brown，anddiffusingawarmodorofhot，brownedroastmeat.LaPaumelle，whowasgettinglively，clappedherhands;LaJean—Jeanleftoffansweringthebaron’snumerousquestions，andLaPutoisuttered.
　　gruntsofpleasure，halfcriesandhalfsighs，aslittlechildrendowhenoneshowsthemcandy."Allowmetotakechargeofthisanimal，"thecuresaid."Iunderstandthesesortofoperationsbetterthanmostpeople."
　　"Certainly，Monsieurl’Abbe，"andthesistersaid："Howwoulditbetoopenthewindowalittle？Theyaretoowarm，andIamafraidtheywillbeill."
　　IturnedtoMarchas："Openthewindowforaminute."Hedidso;thecoldouterairasitcameinmadethecandlesflare，andthesteamfromthegoose，whichthecurewasscientificallycarving，withatablenapkinroundhisneck，whirlabout.Wewatchedhimdoingit，withoutspeakingnow，forwewereinterestedinhisattractivehandiwork，andseizedwithrenewedappetiteatthesightofthatenormousgolden—brownbird，whoselimbsfelloneafteranotherintothebrowngravyatthebottomofthedish.Atthatmoment，inthemidstofthatgreedysilencewhichkeptusallattentive，thedistantreportofashotcameinattheopenwindow.
　　Istartedtomyfeetsoquicklythatmychairfelldownbehindme，andI
　　shouted："Tosaddle，allofyou！You，Marches，taketwomenandgoandseewhatitis.Ishallexpectyoubackhereinfiveminutes."Andwhilethethreeriderswentoffatfullgallopthroughthenight，Igotintothesaddlewithmythreeremaininghussars，infrontofthestepsofthevilla，whilethecure，thesisterandthethreeoldwomenshowedtheirfrightenedfacesatthewindow.
　　Weheardnothingmore，exceptthebarkingofadoginthedistance.Therainhadceased，anditwascold，verycold，andsoonIheardthegallopofahorse，ofasinglehorse，comingback.ItwasMarchas，andIcalledouttohim："Well？""Itisnothing;Francoishaswoundedanoldpeasantwhorefusedtoanswerhischallenge：’Whogoesthere？’andwhocontinuedtoadvanceinspiteoftheordertokeepoff;buttheyarebringinghimhere，andweshallseewhatisthematter."
　　Igaveordersforthehorsestobeputbackinthestable，andIsentmytwosoldierstomeettheothers，andreturnedtothehouse.Thenthecure，Marchas，andItookamattressintotheroomtolaythewoundedmanon;thesistertoreupatablenapkininordertomakelint，whilethethreefrightenedwomenremainedhuddledupinacorner.
　　SoonIheardtherattleofsabresontheroad，andItookacandletoshowalighttothemenwhowerereturning;andtheysoonappeared，carryingthatinert，soft，long，sinisterobjectwhichahumanbodybecomeswhenlifenolongersustainsit.
　　Theyputthewoundedmanonthemattressthathadbeenpreparedforhim，andIsawatthefirstglancethathewasdying.Hehadthedeathrattleandwasspittingupblood，whichranoutofthecornersofhismouthateverygasp.Themanwascoveredwithblood！Hischeeks，hisbeard，hishair，hisneckandhisclothesseemedtohavebeensoaked，tohavebeendippedinaredtub;andthatbloodstucktohim，andhadbecomeadullcolorwhichwashorribletolookat.
　　Thewoundedman，wrappedupinalargeshepherd’scloak，occasionallyopenedhisdull，vacanteyes，whichseemedstupidwithastonishment，likethoseofanimalswoundedbyasportsman，whichfallathisfeet，morethanhalfdeadalready，stupefiedwithterrorandsurprise.
　　Thecureexclaimed："Ah，itisoldPlacide，theshepherdfromLesMoulins.Heisdeaf，poorman，andheardnothing.Ah！Oh，God！theyhavekilledtheunhappyman！"Thesisterhadopenedhisblouseandshirt，andwaslookingatalittleblueholeinhischest，whichwasnotbleedinganymore."Thereisnothingtobedone，"shesaid.
　　Theshepherdwasgaspingterriblyandbringingupbloodwitheverylastbreath，andinhisthroat，totheverydepthofhislungs，theycouldhearanominousandcontinuedgurgling.Thecure，standinginfrontofhim，raisedhisrighthand，madethesignofthecross，andinaslowandsolemnvoicepronouncedtheLatinwordswhichpurifymen’ssouls，butbeforetheywerefinished，theoldman’sbodytrembledviolently，asifsomethinghadgivenwayinsidehim，andheceasedtobreathe.Hewasdead.
　　WhenIturnedround，Isawasightwhichwasevenmorehorriblethanthedeathstruggleofthisunfortunateman;thethreeoldwomenwerestandinguphuddledclosetogether，hideous，andgrimacingwithfearandhorror.
　　Iwentuptothem，andtheybegantouttershrillscreams，whileLaJean—
　　Jean，whoseburnedlegcouldnolongersupporther，felltothegroundatfulllength.
　　SisterSaint—Benedictleftthedeadman，ranuptoherinfirmoldwomen，andwithoutawordoralookforme，wrappedtheirshawlsroundthem，gavethemtheircrutches，pushedthemtothedoor，madethemgoout，anddisappearedwiththemintothedarknight.
　　IsawthatIcouldnotevenletahussaraccompanythem，forthemererattleofaswordwouldhavesentthemmadwithfear.
　　Thecurewasstilllookingatthedeadman;butatlastheturnedroundtomeandsaid：
　　"Oh！Whatahorriblething！"
　　THEMUSTACHE
　　CHATEAUDESOLLES，July30，1883.
　　MyDearLucy：
　　Ihavenonews.Weliveinthedrawing—room，lookingoutattherain.
　　Wecannotgooutinthisfrightfulweather，sowehavetheatricals.
　　Howstupidtheyare，mydear，thesedrawingentertainmentsintherepertoryofreallife！Allisforced，coarse，heavy.Thejokesarelikecannonballs，smashingeverythingintheirpassage.Nowit，nothingnatural，nosprightliness，noelegance.Theseliterarymen，intruth，knownothingofsociety.Theyareperfectlyignorantofhowpeoplethinkandtalkinourset.Idonotmindiftheydespiseourcustoms，ourconventionalities，butIdonotforgivethemfornotknowingthem.Whentheywanttobehumoroustheymakepunsthatwoulddoforabarrack;whentheytrytobejolly，theygiveusjokesthattheymusthavepickedupontheouterboulevardinthosebeerhousesartistsaresupposedtofrequent，whereonehasheardthesamestudents’jokesforfiftyyears.
　　SowehavetakentoTheatricals.Asweareonlytwowomen，myhusbandtakesthepartofasoubrette，and，inordertodothat，hehasshavedoffhismustache.Youcannotimagine，mydearLucy，howitchangeshim！
　　Inolongerrecognizehim—bydayoratnight.IfhedidnotletitgrowagainIthinkIshouldnolongerlovehim;helookssohorridlikethis.
　　Infact，amanwithoutamustacheisnolongeraman.Idonotcaremuchforabeard;italmostalwaysmakesamanlookuntidy.Butamustache，oh，amustacheisindispensabletoamanlyface.No，youwouldneverbelievehowtheselittlehairbristlesontheupperliparearelieftotheeyeandgoodinotherways.Ihavethoughtoverthematteragreatdealbuthardlydaretowritemythoughts.Wordslooksodifferentonpaperandthesubjectissodifficult，sodelicate，sodangerousthatitrequiresinfiniteskilltotackleit.
　　Well，whenmyhusbandappeared，shaven，IunderstoodatoncethatInevercouldfallinlovewithastrollingactornorapreacher，evenifitwereFatherDidon，themostcharmingofall！LaterwhenIwasalonewithhim（myhusband）itwasworsestill.Oh，mydearLucy，neverletyourselfbekissedbyamanwithoutamustache;theirkisseshavenoflavor，nonewhatever！Theynolongerhavethecharm，themellownessandthesnap—
　　yes，thesnap——ofarealkiss.Themustacheisthespice.
　　Imagineplacingtoyourlipsapieceofdry——ormoist——parchment.Thatisthekissofthemanwithoutamustache.Itisnotworthwhile.
　　Whencecomesthischarmofthemustache，willyoutellme？DoIknowmyself？Itticklesyourface，youfeelitapproachingyourmouthanditsendsalittleshiverthroughyoudowntothetipsofyourtoes.
　　Andonyourneck！Haveyoueverfeltamustacheonyourneck？Itintoxicatesyou，makesyoufeelcreepy，goestothetipsofyourfingers.
　　Youwriggle，shakeyourshoulders，tossbackyourhead.Youwishtogetawayandatthesametimetoremainthere;itisdelightful，butirritating.Buthowgooditis！
　　Alipwithoutamustacheislikeabodywithoutclothing;andonemustwearclothes，veryfew，ifyoulike，butstillsomeclothing.
　　Irecallasentence（utteredbyapolitician）whichhasbeenrunninginmymindforthreemonths.Myhusband，whokeepsupwiththenewspapers，readmeoneeveningaverysingularspeechbyourMinisterofAgriculture，whowascalledM.Meline.Hemayhavebeensupersededbythistime.Idonotknow.
　　Iwaspayingnoattention，butthenameMelinestruckme.Itrecalled，Idonotexactlyknowwhy，the’Scenesdelaviedeboheme’.Ithoughtitwasaboutsomegrisette.Thatshowshowscrapsofthespeechenteredmymind.ThisM.MelinewasmakingthisstatementtothepeopleofAmiens，Ibelieve，andIhaveeversincebeentryingtounderstandwhathemeant："Thereisnopatriotismwithoutagriculture！"Well，Ihavejustdiscoveredhismeaning，andIaffirminmyturnthatthereisnolovewithoutamustache.Whenyousayitthatwayitsoundscomical，doesitnot？
　　Thereisnolovewithoutamustache！
　　"Thereisnopatriotismwithoutagriculture，"saidM.Meline，andhewasright，thatminister;Inowunderstandwhy.
　　Fromaverydifferentpointofviewthemustacheisessential.Itgivescharactertotheface.Itmakesamanlookgentle，tender，violent，amonster，arake，enterprising！Thehairyman，whodoesnotshaveoffhiswhiskers，neverhasarefinedlook，forhisfeaturesareconcealed;andtheshapeofthejawandthechinbetraysagreatdealtothosewhounderstand.
　　Themanwithamustacheretainshisownpeculiarexpressionandhisrefinementatthesametime.
　　Andhowmanydifferentvarietiesofmustachesthereare！Sometimestheyaretwisted，curled，coquettish.Thoseseemtobechieflydevotedtowomen.
　　Sometimestheyarepointed，sharpasneedles，andthreatening.Thatkindpreferswine，horsesandwar.
　　Sometimestheyareenormous，overhanging，frightful.Thesebigonesgenerallyconcealafinedisposition，akindlinessthatbordersonweaknessandagentlenessthatsavorsoftimidity.
　　ButwhatIadoreaboveallinthemustacheisthatitisFrench，altogetherFrench.Itcamefromourancestors，theGauls，andhasremainedtheinsigniaofournationalcharacter.
　　Itisboastful，gallantandbrave.Itsipswinegracefullyandknowshowtolaughwithrefinement，whilethebroad—beardedjawsareclumsyineverythingtheydo.
　　Irecallsomethingthatmademeweepallmytearsandalso——Iseeitnow——mademeloveamustacheonaman’sface.
　　Itwasduringthewar，whenIwaslivingwithmyfather.Iwasayounggirlthen.Onedaytherewasaskirmishnearthechateau.Ihadheardthefiringofthecannonandoftheartilleryallthemorning，andthateveningaGermancolonelcameandtookuphisabodeinourhouse.Heleftthefollowingday.
　　Myfatherwasinformedthattherewereanumberofdeadbodiesinthefields.Hehadthembroughttoourplacesothattheymightbeburiedtogether.Theywerelaidallalongthegreatavenueofpinesasfastastheybroughtthemin，onbothsidesoftheavenue，andastheybegantosmellunpleasant，theirbodieswerecoveredwithearthuntilthedeeptrenchcouldbedug.Thusonesawonlytheirheadswhichseemedtoprotrudefromtheclayeyearthandwerealmostasyellow，withtheirclosedeyes.
　　Iwantedtoseethem.ButwhenIsawthosetworowsoffrightfulfaces，IthoughtIshouldfaint.However，Ibegantolookatthem，onebyone，tryingtoguesswhatkindofmenthesehadbeen.
　　Theuniformswereconcealedbeneaththeearth，andyetimmediately，yes，immediately，mydear，IrecognizedtheFrenchmenbytheirmustache！
　　Someofthemhadshavedontheverydayofthebattle，asthoughtheywishedtobeelegantuptothelast;othersseemedtohaveaweek’sgrowth，butallworetheFrenchmustache，veryplain，theproudmustachethatseemstosay："Donottakemeformybeardedfriend，littleone;I
　　amabrother."
　　AndIcried，oh，IcriedagreatdealmorethanIshouldifIhadnotrecognizedthem，thepoordeadfellows.
　　Itwaswrongofmetotellyouthis.NowIamsadandcannotchatteranylonger.Well，good—by，dearLucy.Isendyouaheartykiss.Longlivethemustache！
　　JEANNE.
　　MADAMEBAPTISTE
　　ThefirstthingIdidwastolookattheclockasIenteredthewaiting—
　　roomofthestationatLoubain，andIfoundthatIhadtowaittwohoursandtenminutesfortheParisexpress.
　　Ihadwalkedtwentymilesandfeltsuddenlytired.Notseeinganythingonthestationwallstoamuseme，Iwentoutsideandstoodthererackingmybrainstothinkofsomethingtodo.Thestreetwasakindofboulevard，plantedwithacacias，andoneithersidearowofhousesofvaryingshapeanddifferentstylesofarchitecture，housessuchasoneonlyseesinasmalltown，andascendedaslighthill，attheextremeendofwhichthereweresometrees，asthoughitendedinapark.
　　Fromtimetotimeacatcrossedthestreetandjumpedoverthegutterscarefully.Acursniffedateverytreeandhuntedforscrapsfromthekitchens，butIdidnotseeasinglehumanbeing，andIfeltlistlessanddisheartened.WhatcouldIdowithmyself？Iwasalreadythinkingoftheinevitableandinterminablevisittothesmallcafeattherailwaystation，whereIshouldhavetositoveraglassofundrinkablebeerandtheillegiblenewspaper，whenIsawafuneralprocessioncomingoutofasidestreetintotheoneinwhichIwas，andthesightofthehearsewasarelieftome.Itwould，atanyrate，givemesomethingtodofortenminutes.
　　Suddenly，however，mycuriositywasaroused.Thehearsewasfollowedbyeightgentlemen，oneofwhomwasweeping，whiletheotherswerechattingtogether，buttherewasnopriest，andIthoughttomyself：
　　"Thisisanon—religiousfuneral，"andthenIreflectedthatatownlikeLoubainmustcontainatleastahundredfreethinkers，whowouldhavemadeapointofmakingamanifestation.Whatcoulditbe，then？Therapidpaceoftheprocessionclearlyprovedthatthebodywastobeburiedwithoutceremony，and，consequently，withouttheinterventionoftheChurch.
　　Myidlecuriosityframedthemostcomplicatedsurmises，andasthehearsepassedme，astrangeideastruckme，whichwastofollowit，withtheeightgentlemen.Thatwouldtakeupmytimeforanhour，atleast，andI
　　accordinglywalkedwiththeothers，withasadlookonmyface，and，onseeingthis，thetwolastturnedroundinsurprise，andthenspoketoeachotherinalowvoice.
　　NodoubttheywereaskingeachotherwhetherIbelongedtothetown，andthentheyconsultedthetwoinfrontofthem，whostaredatmeinturn.
　　Thisclosescrutinyannoyedme，andtoputanendtoitIwentuptothem，and，afterbowing，Isaid：
　　"Ibegyourpardon，gentlemen，forinterruptingyourconversation，but，seeingacivilfuneral，Ihavefollowedit，althoughIdidnotknowthedeceasedgentlemanwhomyouareaccompanying."
　　"Itwasawoman，"oneofthemsaid.
　　Iwasmuchsurprisedathearingthis，andasked：
　　"Butitisacivilfuneral，isitnot？"
　　Theothergentleman，whoevidentlywishedtotellmeallaboutit，thensaid："Yesandno.Theclergyhaverefusedtoallowustheuseofthechurch."
　　OnhearingthisIutteredaprolonged"A—h！"ofastonishment.Icouldnotunderstanditatall，butmyobligingneighborcontinued：
　　"Itisratheralongstory.Thisyoungwomancommittedsuicide，andthatisthereasonwhyshecannotbeburiedwithanyreligiousceremony.
　　Thegentlemanwhoiswalkingfirst，andwhoiscrying，isherhusband."
　　Irepliedwithsomehesitation：
　　"Yousurpriseandinterestmeverymuch，monsieur.ShallIbeindiscreetifIaskyoutotellmethefactsofthecase？IfIamtroublingyou，forgetthatIhavesaidanythingaboutthematter."
　　Thegentlemantookmyarmfamiliarly.
　　"Notatall，notatall.Letuslingeralittlebehindtheothers，andI
　　willtellityou，althoughitisaverysadstory.Wehaveplentyoftimebeforegettingtothecemetery，thetreesofwhichyouseeupyonder，foritisastiffpullupthishill."
　　Andhebegan：
　　"Thisyoungwoman，MadamePaulHamot，wasthedaughterofawealthymerchantintheneighborhood，MonsieurFontanelle.Whenshewasamerechildofeleven，shehadashockingadventure;afootmanattackedherandshenearlydied.Aterriblecriminalcasewastheresult，andthemanwassentencedtopenalservitudeforlife.
　　"Thelittlegirlgrewup，stigmatizedbydisgrace，isolated，withoutanycompanions;andgrown—uppeoplewouldscarcelykissher，fortheythoughtthattheywouldsoiltheirlipsiftheytouchedherforehead，andshebecameasortofmonster，aphenomenontoallthetown.Peoplesaidtoeachotherinawhisper：’Youknow，littleFontanelle，’andeverybodyturnedawayinthestreetswhenshepassed.Herparentscouldnotevengetanursetotakeheroutforawalk，astheotherservantsheldalooffromher，asifcontactwithherwouldpoisoneverybodywhocamenearher.
　　"Itwaspitiabletoseethepoorchildgoandplayeveryafternoon.Sheremainedquitebyherself，standingbyhermaidandlookingattheotherchildrenamusingthemselves.Sometimes，yieldingtoanirresistibledesiretomixwiththeotherchildren，sheadvancedtimidly，withnervousgestures，andmingledwithagroup，withfurtivesteps，asifconsciousofherowndisgrace.Andimmediatelythemothers，auntsandnurseswouldcomerunningfromeveryseatandtakethechildrenentrustedtotheircarebythehandanddragthembrutallyaway.
　　"LittleFontanelleremainedisolated，wretched，withoutunderstandingwhatitmeant，andthenshebegantocry，nearlyheartbrokenwithgrief，andthensheusedtorunandhideherheadinhernurse’slap，sobbing.
　　"Asshegrewup，itwasworsestill.Theykeptthegirlsfromher，asifshewerestrickenwiththeplague.Rememberthatshehadnothingtolearn，nothing;thatshenolongerhadtherighttothesymbolicalwreathoforange—flowers;thatalmostbeforeshecouldreadshehadpenetratedthatredoubtablemysterywhichmothersscarcelyallowtheirdaughterstoguessat，tremblingastheyenlightenthemonthenightoftheirmarriage.
　　"Whenshewentthroughthestreets，alwaysaccompaniedbyhergoverness，asif，herparentsfearedsomefresh，terribleadventure，withhereyescastdownundertheloadofthatmysteriousdisgracewhichshefeltwasalwaysweighinguponher，theothergirls，whowerenotnearlysoinnocentaspeoplethought，whisperedandgiggledastheylookedatherknowingly，andimmediatelyturnedtheirheadsabsently，ifshehappenedtolookatthem.Peoplescarcelygreetedher;onlyafewmenbowedtoher，andthemotherspretendednottoseeher，whilesomeyoungblackguardscalledherMadameBaptiste，afterthenameofthefootmanwhohadattackedher.
　　"Nobodyknewthesecrettortureofhermind，forshehardlyeverspoke，andneverlaughed，andherparentsthemselvesappeareduncomfortableinherpresence，asiftheyboreheraconstantgrudgeforsomeirreparablefault.
　　"Anhonestmanwouldnotwillinglygivehishandtoaliberatedconvict，wouldhe，evenifthatconvictwerehisownson？AndMonsieurandMadameFontanellelookedontheirdaughterastheywouldhavedoneonasonwhohadjustbeenreleasedfromthehulks.Shewasprettyandpale，tall，slender，distinguished—looking，andshewouldhavepleasedmeverymuch，monsieur，butforthatunfortunateaffair.
　　"Well，whenanewsub—prefectwasappointedhere，eighteenmonthsago，hebroughthisprivatesecretarywithhim.Hewasaqueersortoffellow，whohadlivedintheLatinQuarter，itappears.HesawMademoiselleFontanelleandfellinlovewithher，andwhentoldofwhatoccurred，hemerelysaid：
　　’Bah！Thatisjustaguaranteeforthefuture，andIwouldratheritshouldhavehappenedbeforeImarriedherthanafterward.Ishalllivetranquillywiththatwoman.’
　　"Hepaidhisaddressestoher，askedforherhandandmarriedher，andthen，notbeingdeficientinassurance，hepaidweddingcalls，asifnothinghadhappened.Somepeoplereturnedthem，othersdidnot;but，atlast，theaffairbegantobeforgotten，andshetookherproperplaceinsociety.
　　"Sheadoredherhusbandasifhehadbeenagod;for，youmustremember，hehadrestoredhertohonorandtosociallife，hadbravedpublicopinion，facedinsults，and，inaword，performedsuchacourageousactasfewmenwouldundertake，andshefeltthemostexaltedandtenderloveforhim.
　　"Whenshebecameenceinte，anditwasknown，themostparticularpeopleandthegreateststicklersopenedtheirdoorstoher，asifshehadbeendefinitelypurifiedbymaternity.
　　"Itisstrange，butsoitis，andthuseverythingwasgoingonaswellaspossibleuntiltheotherday，whichwasthefeastofthepatronsaintofourtown.Theprefect，surroundedbyhisstaffandtheauthorities，presidedatthemusicalcompetition，andwhenhehadfinishedhisspeechthedistributionofmedalsbegan，whichPaulHamot，hisprivatesecretary，handedtothosewhowereentitledtothem.
　　"Asyouknow，therearealwaysjealousiesandrivalries，whichmakepeopleforgetallpropriety.Alltheladiesofthetownwerethereontheplatform，and，inhisturn，thebandmasterfromthevillageofMourmilloncameup.Thisbandwasonlytoreceiveasecond—classmedal，foronecannotgivefirst—classmedalstoeverybody，canone？Butwhentheprivatesecretaryhandedhimhisbadge，themanthrewitinhisfaceandexclaimed：
　　"’YoumaykeepyourmedalforBaptiste.Youowehimafirst—classone，also，justasyoudome.’
　　"Therewereanumberofpeopletherewhobegantolaugh.Thecommonherdareneithercharitablenorrefined，andeveryeyewasturnedtowardthatpoorlady.Haveyoueverseenawomangoingmad，monsieur？Well，wewerepresentatthesight！Shegotupandfellbackonherchairthreetimesinsuccession，asifshewishedtomakeherescape，butsawthatshecouldnotmakeherwaythroughthecrowd，andthenanothervoiceinthecrowdexclaimed：
　　"’Oh！Oh！MadameBaptiste！’
　　"Andagreatuproar，partlyoflaughterandpartlyofindignation，arose.
　　Thewordwasrepeatedoverandoveragain;peoplestoodontiptoetoseetheunhappywoman’sface;husbandsliftedtheirwivesupintheirarms，sothattheymightseeher，andpeopleasked：
　　"’Whichisshe？Theoneinblue？’
　　"Theboyscrowedlikecocks，andlaughterwasheardallovertheplace.
　　"Shedidnotmovenowonherstatechair，butsatjustasifshehadbeenputthereforthecrowdtolookat.Shecouldnotmove，norconcealherself，norhideherface.Hereyelidsblinkedquickly，asifavividlightwereshiningonthem，andshebreathedheavily，likeahorsethatisgoingupasteephill，sothatitalmostbrokeone’shearttoseeher.
　　Meanwhile，however，MonsieurHamothadseizedtheruffianbythethroat，andtheywererollingonthegroundtogether，amidasceneofindescribableconfusion，andtheceremonywasinterrupted.
　　"Anhourlater，astheHamotswerereturninghome，theyoungwoman，whohadnotutteredawordsincetheinsult，butwhowastremblingasifallhernerveshadbeensetinmotionbysprings，suddenlysprangovertheparapetofthebridgeandthrewherselfintotheriverbeforeherhusbandcouldpreventher.Thewaterisverydeepunderthearches，anditwastwohoursbeforeherbodywasrecovered.Ofcourse，shewasdead."
　　Thenarratorstoppedandthenadded：
　　"Itwas，perhaps，thebestthingshecoulddounderthecircumstances.
　　Therearesomethingswhichcannotbewipedout，andnowyouunderstandwhytheclergyrefusedtohavehertakenintochurch.Ah！Ifithadbeenareligiousfuneralthewholetownwouldhavebeenpresent，butyoucanunderstandthathersuicideaddedtotheotheraffairandmadefamiliesabstainfromattendingherfuneral;andthen，itisnotaneasymatterheretoattendafuneralwhichisperformedwithoutreligiousrites."
　　WepassedthroughthecemeterygatesandIwaited，muchmovedbywhatI
　　hadheard，untilthecoffinhadbeenloweredintothegrave，beforeI
　　wentuptothepoorfellowwhowassobbingviolently，topresshishandwarmly.Helookedatmeinsurprisethroughhistearsandthensaid：
　　"Thankyou，monsieur."AndIwasnotsorrythatIhadfollowedthefuneral.
　　THEQUESTIONOFLATIN
　　ThissubjectofLatinthathasbeendinnedintoourearsforsometimepastrecallstomymindastory——astoryofmyyouth.
　　Iwasfinishingmystudieswithateacher，inabigcentraltown，attheInstitutionRobineau，celebratedthroughtheentireprovinceforthespecialattentionpaidtheretothestudyofLatin.
　　Forthepasttenyears，theRobineauInstitutebeattheimperiallyceeofthetownateverycompetitiveexamination，andallthecollegesofthesubprefecture，andtheseconstantsuccessesweredue，theysaid，toanusher，asimpleusher，M.Piquedent，orratherPerePiquedent.
　　Hewasoneofthosemiddle—agedmenquitegray，whoserealageitisimpossibletotell，andwhosehistorywecanguessatfirstglance.
　　HavingenteredasanusherattwentyintothefirstinstitutionthatpresenteditselfsothathecouldproceedtotakefirsthisdegreeofMasterofArtsandafterwardthedegreeofDoctorofLaws，hefoundhimselfsoenmeshedinthisroutinethatheremainedanusherallhislife.ButhisloveforLatindidnotleavehimandharassedhimlikeanunhealthypassion.Hecontinuedtoreadthepoets，theprosewriters，thehistorians，tointerpretthemandpenetratetheirmeaning，tocommentonthemwithaperseveranceborderingonmadness.
　　Oneday，theideacameintohisheadtoobligeallthestudentsinhisclasstoanswerhiminLatinonly;andhepersistedinthisresolutionuntilatlasttheywerecapableofsustaininganentireconversationwithhimjustastheywouldintheirmothertongue.Helistenedtothem，asaleaderofanorchestralistenstohismusiciansrehearsing，andstrikinghisdeskeverymomentwithhisruler，heexclaimed：
　　"MonsieurLefrere，MonsieurLefrere，youarecommittingasolecism！Youforgettherule.
　　"MonsieurPlantel，yourwayofexpressingyourselfisaltogetherFrenchandinnowayLatin.Youmustunderstandthegeniusofalanguage.Lookhere，listentome."
　　Now，itcametopassthatthepupilsoftheInstitutionRobineaucarriedoff，attheendoftheyear，alltheprizesforcomposition，translation，andLatinconversation.
　　Nextyear，theprincipal，alittleman，ascunningasanape，whomheresembledinhisgrinningandgrotesqueappearance，hadhadprintedonhisprogrammes，onhisadvertisements，andpaintedonthedoorofhisinstitution：
　　"LatinStudiesaSpecialty.Fivefirstprizescarriedoffinthefiveclassesofthelycee.
　　"TwohonorprizesatthegeneralexaminationsincompetitionwithallthelyceesandcollegesofFrance."
　　FortenyearstheInstitutionRobineautriumphedinthesamefashion.
　　Nowmyfather，alluredbythesesuccesses，sentmeasadaypupiltoRobineau’s——or，aswecalledit，RobinettoorRobinettino’s——andmademetakespecialprivatelessonsfromPerePiquedentattherateoffivefrancsperhour，outofwhichtheushergottwofrancsandtheprincipalthreefrancs.Iwastheneighteen，andwasinthephilosophyclass.
　　Theseprivatelessonsweregiveninalittleroomlookingoutonthestreet.ItsohappenedthatPerePiquedent，insteadoftalkingLatintome，ashedidwhenteachingpubliclyintheinstitution，kepttellingmehistroublesinFrench.Withoutrelations，withoutfriends，thepoormanconceivedanattachmenttome，andpouredouthismiserytome.
　　Hehadneverforthelasttenorfifteenyearschattedconfidentiallywithanyone.
　　"Iamlikeanoakinadesert，"hesaid——"’sicutquercusinsolitudine’."
　　Theotherushersdisgustedhim.Heknewnobodyinthetown，sincehehadnotimetodevotetomakingacquaintances.
　　"Noteventhenights，myfriend，andthatisthehardestthingonme.
　　Thedreamofmylifeistohavearoomwithmyownfurniture，myownbooks，littlethingsthatbelongtomyselfandwhichothersmaynottouch.AndIhavenothingofmyown，nothingexceptmytrousersandmyfrock—coat，nothing，notevenmymattressandmypillow！Ihavenotfourwallstoshutmyselfupin，exceptwhenIcometogivealessoninthisroom.Doyouseewhatthismeans——amanforcedtospendhislifewithouteverhavingtheright，withouteverfindingthetime，toshuthimselfupallalone，nomatterwhere，tothink，toreflect，towork，todream？Ah！
　　mydearboy，akey，thekeyofadoorwhichonecanlock——thisishappiness，markyou，theonlyhappiness！
　　"Here，alldaylong，teachingallthoserestlessrogues，andduringthenightthedormitorywiththesamerestlessroguessnoring.AndIhavetosleepinthebedattheendoftworowsofbedsoccupiedbytheseyoungsterswhomImustlookafter.Icanneverbealone，never！IfIgooutIfindthestreetsfullofpeople，and，whenIamtiredofwalking，Igointosomecafecrowdedwithsmokersandbilliardplayers.Itellyouwhat，itisthelifeofagalleyslave."
　　Isaid：
　　"Whydidyounottakeupsomeotherline，MonsieurPiquedent？"
　　Heexclaimed：
　　"What，mylittlefriend？Iamnotashoemaker，orajoiner，orahatter，orabaker，orahairdresser.IonlyknowLatin，andIhavenodiplomawhichwouldenablemetosellmyknowledgeatahighprice.IfIwereadoctorIwouldsellforahundredfrancswhatInowsellforahundredsous;andIwouldsupplyitprobablyofaninferiorquality，formytitlewouldbeenoughtosustainmyreputation."
　　Sometimeshewouldsaytome：
　　"Ihavenorestinlifeexceptinthehoursspentwithyou.Don’tbeafraid！you’lllosenothingbythat.I’llmakeituptoyouintheclass—roombymakingyouspeaktwiceasmuchLatinastheothers."
　　Oneday，Igrewbolder，andofferedhimacigarette.Hestaredatmeinastonishmentatfirst，thenhegaveaglancetowardthedoor.
　　"Ifanyoneweretocomein，mydearboy？"
　　"Well，letussmokeatthewindow，"saidI.
　　Andwewentandleanedourelbowsonthewindowsilllookingonthestreet，holdingconcealedinourhandsthelittlerollspftobacco.
　　Justoppositetouswasalaundry.Fourwomeninloosewhitewaistswerepassinghot，heavyironsoverthelinenspreadoutbeforethem，fromwhichawarmsteamarose.
　　Suddenly，another，afifth，carryingonherarmalargebasketwhichmadeherstoop，cameouttotakethecustomerstheirshirts，theirhandkerchiefs，andtheirsheets.Shestoppedonthethresholdasifshewerealreadyfatigued;then，sheraisedhereyes，smiledasshesawussmoking，flungatus，withherlefthand，whichwasfree，theslykisscharacteristicofafree—and—easyworking—woman，andwentawayataslowplace，draggingherfeetasshewent.
　　Shewasawomanofabouttwenty，small，ratherthin，pale，ratherpretty，witharoguishairandlaughingeyesbeneathherill—combedfairhair.
　　PerePiquedent，affected，beganmurmuring：
　　"Whatanoccupationforawoman！Reallyatradeonlyfitforahorse."
　　Andhespokewithemotionaboutthemiseryofthepeople.Hehadaheartwhichswelledwithloftydemocraticsentiment，andhereferredtothefatiguingpursuitsoftheworkingclasswithphrasesborrowedfromJean—
　　JacquesRousseau，andwithsobsinhisthroat.
　　Nextday，aswewereleaningourelbowsonthesamewindowsill，thesamewomanperceivedusandcriedouttous：
　　"Good—day，scholars！"inacomicalsortoftone，whileshemadeacontemptuousgesturewithherhands.
　　Iflungheracigarette，whichsheimmediatelybegantosmoke.Andthefourotherironersrushedouttothedoorwithoutstretchedhandstogetcigarettesalso.
　　Andeachdayafriendlyintercoursewasestablishedbetweentheworking—
　　womenofthepavementandtheidlersoftheboardingschool.
　　PerePiquedentwasreallyacomicalsight.Hetrembledatbeingnoticed，forhemightlosehisposition;andhemadetimidandridiculousgestures，quiteatheatricaldisplayoflovesignals，towhichthewomenrespondedwitharegularfusilladeofkisses.
　　Aperfidiousideacameintomymind.Oneday，onenteringourroom，I
　　saidtotheoldusherinalowtone：
　　"Youwouldnotbelieveit，MonsieurPiquedent，Imetthelittlewasherwoman！YouknowtheoneImean，thewomanwhohadthebasket，andIspoketoher！"
　　Heasked，ratherworriedatmymanner：
　　"Whatdidshesaytoyou？"
　　"Shesaidtome——why，shesaidshethoughtyouwereverynice.Thefactofthematteris，Ibelieve，Ibelieve，thatsheisalittleinlovewithyou."Isawthathewasgrowingpale.
　　"Sheislaughingatme，ofcourse.Thesethingsdon’thappenatmyage，"
　　hereplied.
　　Isaidgravely：
　　"Howisthat？Youareallright."
　　AsIfeltthatmytrickhadproduceditseffectonhim，Ididnotpressthematter.
　　ButeverydayIpretendedthatIhadmetthelittlelaundressandthatI
　　hadspokentoherabouthim，sothatintheendhebelievedme，andsentherardentandearnestkisses.
　　Nowithappenedthatonemorning，onmywaytotheboardingschool，I
　　reallycameacrossher.Iaccostedherwithouthesitation，asifIhadknownherforthelasttenyears.
　　"Good—day，mademoiselle.Areyouquitewell？"
　　"Verywell，monsieur，thankyou."
　　"Willyouhaveacigarette？"
　　"Oh！notinthestreet."
　　"Youcansmokeitathome."
　　"Inthatcase，Iwill."
　　"Letmetellyou，mademoiselle，there’ssomethingyoudon’tknow."
　　"Whatisthat，monsieur？"
　　"Theoldgentleman——myoldprofessor，Imean——"
　　"PerePiquedent？"
　　"Yes，PerePiquedent.Soyouknowhisname？"
　　"Faith，Ido！Whatofthat？"
　　"Well，heisinlovewithyou！"
　　Sheburstoutlaughingwildly，andexclaimed：
　　"Youareonlyfooling."
　　"Oh！no，Iamnotfooling！Hekeepstalkingofyouallthroughthelesson.Ibetthathe’llmarryyou！
　　Sheceasedlaughing.Theideaofmarriagemakeseverygirlserious.
　　Thensherepeated，withanincredulousair：
　　"Thisishumbug！"
　　"Isweartoyou，it’strue."
　　Shepickedupherbasketwhichshehadlaiddownatherfeet.
　　"Well，we’llsee，"shesaid.Andshewentaway.
　　PresentlywhenIhadreachedtheboardingschool，ItookPerePiquedentaside，andsaid：
　　"Youmustwritetoher;sheisinfatuatedwithyou."
　　Andhewrotealongletter，tenderlyaffectionate，fullofphrasesandcircumlocutions，metaphorsandsimiles，philosophyandacademicgallantry;andItookonmyselftheresponsibilityofdeliveringittotheyoungwoman.
　　Shereaditwithgravity，withemotion;thenshemurmured：
　　"Howwellhewrites！Itiseasytoseehehasgoteducation！Doeshereallymeantomarryme？"
　　Irepliedintrepidly："Faith，hehaslosthisheadaboutyou！"
　　"ThenhemustinvitemetodinneronSundayattheIledesFleurs."
　　Ipromisedthatsheshouldbeinvited.
　　PerePiquedentwasmuchtouchedbyeverythingItoldhimabouther.
　　Iadded：
　　"Shelovesyou，MonsieurPiquedent，andIbelievehertobeadecentgirl.Itisnotrighttoleadheronandthenabandonher."
　　Herepliedinafirmtone：
　　"IhopeI，too，amadecentman，myfriend."
　　IconfessIhadatthetimenoplan.Iwasplayingapracticaljokeaschoolboyjoke，nothingmore.Ihadbeenawareofthesimplicityoftheoldusher，hisinnocenceandhisweakness.Iamusedmyselfwithoutaskingmyselfhowitwouldturnout.Iwaseighteen，andIhadbeenforalongtimelookeduponatthelyceeasaslypracticaljoker.
　　SoitwasagreedthatPerePiquedentandIshouldsetoutinahackfortheferryofQueuedeVache，thatweshouldtherepickupAngele，andthatIshouldtakethemintomyboat，forinthosedaysIwasfondofboating.IwouldthenbringthemtotheIledesFleurs，wherethethreeofuswoulddine.Ihadinflictedmyselfonthem，thebettertoenjoymytriumph，andtheusher，consentingtomyarrangement，provedclearlythathewaslosinghisheadbythusriskingthelossofhisposition.
　　Whenwearrivedattheferry，wheremyboathadbeenmooredsincemorning，Isawinthegrass，orratherabovethetallweedsofthebank，anenormousredparasol，resemblingamonstrouswildpoppy.BeneaththeparasolwasthelittlelaundressinherSundayclothes.Iwassurprised.
　　Shewasreallypretty，thoughpale;andgraceful，thoughwitharathersuburbangrace.
　　PerePiquedentraisedhishatandbowed.Sheputoutherhandtowardhim，andtheystaredatoneanotherwithoututteringaword.Thentheysteppedintomyboat，andItooktheoars.Theywereseatedsidebysidenearthestern.
　　Theusherwasthefirsttospeak.
　　"Thisisniceweatherforarowinaboat."
　　Shemurmured：
　　"Oh！yes."
　　Shedippedherhandintothewater，skimmingthesurface，makingathin，transparentfilmlikeasheetofglass，whichmadeasoftplashingalongthesideoftheboat.
　　Whentheywereintherestaurant，shetookitonherselftospeak，andordereddinner，friedfish，achicken，andsalad;thensheledusontowardtheisle，whichsheknewperfectly.
　　Afterthis，shewasgay，romping，andevenrathertantalizing.
　　Untildessert，noquestionoflovearose.Ihadtreatedthemtochampagne，andPerePiquedentwastipsy.Herselfslightlytheworse，shecalledouttohim：
　　"MonsieurPiquenez."
　　Hesaidabruptly：
　　"Mademoiselle，MonsieurRaoulhascommunicatedmysentimentstoyou."
　　Shebecameasseriousasajudge.
　　"Yes，monsieur."
　　"Whatisyourreply？"
　　"Weneverreplytothesequestions！"
　　Hepuffedwithemotion，andwenton：
　　"Well，willthedayevercomethatyouwilllikeme？"
　　Shesmiled.
　　"Youbigstupid！Youareverynice."
　　"Inshort，mademoiselle，doyouthinkthat，lateron，wemight——"
　　Shehesitatedasecond;theninatremblingvoiceshesaid：
　　"Doyoumeantomarrymewhenyousaythat？Foronnoothercondition，youknow."
　　"Yes，mademoiselle！"
　　"Well，that’sallright，MonsieurPiquedent！"
　　Itwasthusthatthesetwosillycreaturespromisedmarriagetoeachotherthroughthetrickofayoungscamp.ButIdidnotbelievethatitwasserious，nor，indeed，didthey，perhaps.
　　"Youknow，Ihavenothing，notfoursous，，"shesaid.
　　Hestammered，forhewasasdrunkasSilenus：
　　"Ihavesavedfivethousandfrancs."
　　Sheexclaimedtriumphantly：
　　"Thenwecansetupinbusiness？"
　　Hebecamerestless.
　　"Inwhatbusiness？"
　　"WhatdoIknow？Weshallsee.Withfivethousandfrancswecoulddomanythings.Youdon’twantmetogoandliveinyourboardingschool，doyou？"
　　Hehadnotlookedforwardsofarasthis，andhestammeredingreatperplexity：
　　"Whatbusinesscouldwesetupin？Thatwouldnotdo，forallIknowisLatin！"
　　Shereflectedinherturn，passinginreviewallherbusinessambitions.
　　"Youcouldnotbeadoctor？"
　　"No，Ihavenodiploma."
　　"Orachemist？"
　　"Nomorethantheother."
　　Sheutteredacryofjoy.Shehaddiscoveredit.
　　"Thenwe’llbuyagrocer’sshop！Oh！whatluck！we’llbuyagrocer’sshop.Notonabigscale，ofcourse;withfivethousandfrancsonedoesnotgofar."
　　Hewasshockedatthesuggestion.
　　"No，Ican’tbeagrocer.Iam——Iam——toowellknown：IonlyknowLatin，thatisallIknow."
　　Butshepouredaglassofchampagnedownhisthroat.Hedrankitandwassilent.