Mademoiselle Helose, who had retained her former footing of intimacy with her old friend, because she was careful to call her nothing but Madame de Belleville, suddenly appeared, in evident uneasiness, and whispered to Thelenie:

"I say, my dear, I just saw--down in the street, standing in front of the house, that horrid man who came to your old rooms one day, so wretchedly dressed, all in rags, and who had such a strange name--Croque, I think."

"Ah! you recognized him?"

"Yes, although he is dressed a little better than he was the other time.

He has one of those faces that one doesn't forget! he looks like a night-owl!"

"So Croque has found my trail," thought Thelenie, "and some day he will present himself again. Oh, well! it matters little, after all; I have an idea now that I may have occasion to make use of him."

V

THE CHERRIES.--THE RAVINE

Edmond very soon put in execution the plan he had formed. On the day after that on which he had dined at Madame Dalmont's, he returned to Ch.e.l.les alone. He did not call upon the ladies, because a second visit after so brief an interval would have been indiscreet; but he went all about the neighborhood and succeeded in finding an attractive house to let all furnished, a very short distance from Madame Dalmont's. The house was large enough for a good-sized family; it was much too large for a single man; but the tenant could have possession at once, and it was only five minutes' walk from Madame Dalmont's; so Edmond did not hesitate; he hired it for the balance of the year for one thousand francs, one-half of which he paid in cash to Monsieur Durand, the owner of the property.

Two days later, the young man called at Madame Dalmont's.

"It is a neighbor of yours," he said, "who ventures to pay you a visit, and who, if it is not too presumptuous, will ask your permission to come now and then in the evening, to play and sing with you."

"What! have you hired a house here?" cried Agathe, unable to restrain a joyous movement.

"Yes, mademoiselle, a summer house, belonging to a Monsieur Durand, very near that lady's house where Freluchon was so coldly received when he went there to ask for me a few days ago."

"Oh! I know the place," said Honorine, "but it seems to me to be very large for a single man."

"Oh! what difference does it make? Besides, Freluchon will come to see me often, and pa.s.s the night."

"I thought that he didn't like this part of the country."

"He will get used to it; for my part, the longer I am here, the better I like it."

As he said this, Edmond's eyes were fixed on Agathe, and she understood perfectly why the young man liked Ch.e.l.les so much.

But it was not without considerable disquietude that Honorine saw Edmond Didier take up his abode so near to them; and Agathe, who could read her protectress's face very easily, said to her after Edmond's departure:

"How serious you look! Are you sorry that Monsieur Edmond has hired a country house in this vicinity? You frown at me; is it my fault?"

"Your fault? yes, of course it's your fault; and yet I can't scold you!

Why, you know perfectly well that this young man is in love with you; and that that was the only motive that led him to hire that house, which is large enough for ten persons."

"My dear friend, I swear to you that Monsieur Edmond has never said a word to me which would lead me to suppose that--that he was thinking of me."

"I believe you; indeed, he has not been coming here long."

"Do you mean that you think that that young man is capable of saying unseemly things to me? Do you suppose that I would listen to them?"

"No. Monsieur Edmond seems an honorable man; he has no evil intentions, I believe; but love is a sentiment that one cannot control. If you should love this young man----"

"Well, where would be the harm, since you think that he loves me? He would be my husband."

"Your husband! My poor girl, before marrying, you must have at least enough to live on. You have nothing, and I fancy that Monsieur Edmond hasn't very much, either!"

"But he is always very well and fashionably dressed; he hired Monsieur Durand's house for a thousand francs."

"That proves that he knows how to spend money, but not that he knows how to earn it.--Come, come, don't you take your turn at making wry faces at me. I am your second mother; I am thinking of your future, of your welfare; you ought not to be angry with me for that."

Agathe replied by throwing herself into Honorine's arms, saying:

"Never fear! I shall not have any secrets from you."

The two friends had hardly finished their conversation when Poucette's voice attracted their attention. The girl was talking to someone, in what seemed to be a threatening tone. Her voice came from the garden; the two ladies were there in a moment, and found Poucette clinging to the leg of a small boy who had climbed into a cherry tree, and continued to eat the cherries although she jerked at his leg, trying to pull him down. But when Honorine and Agathe appeared, little Emile concluded to come down from the tree.

"D'ye see, madame," cried Poucette, "here's the one that steals our cherries; for some time past I've been noticing that the cherries kept disappearing although you ladies don't pick any; so I began to suspect something; I hid and watched, and I saw this good-for-nothing scamp, the lost child, climbing over the wall right here by the cherry tree, and in a minute he was in the tree."

"Oh! I recognize him," said Agathe; "it's the boy who chased the cow that frightened you so."

"Pardi! he don't know to do anything but mischief, the wicked little scamp.--But I'll teach you!"

And the peasant made ready to strike the boy, who neither stirred nor spoke, and seemed to care little whether he was beaten or not.

But Honorine stopped Poucette with a gesture; then she sat down on a bench and beckoned the boy to her.

He hesitated, but at last decided to go to her, after casting a savage glance at Poucette.

"Why do you come here to take my cherries?" inquired Honorine in a gentle voice, and looking at the little thief with no trace of anger.

He seemed astonished to be spoken to otherwise than harshly; he lowered his eyes and answered at last:

"Well! I like cherries, I do."

"Even so, that is no reason for taking what doesn't belong to you,--for climbing a wall. Do you know what a risk you run? If the constable had seen you he would have arrested you; he might have taken you to prison, and they would have kept you a long time perhaps, as a vagrant, a bad boy."

"Oh! I'm too small; they don't put little boys in prison!"

"You are mistaken! little boys are just the ones they do keep in the houses of correction until they grow up, so that they can't loiter along the roads doing nothing."

"Well, then, in prison I'd play with the other little boys, as you say there's little boys there."

"No, you wouldn't play, because they don't keep little ne'er-do-wells in prison to play and enjoy themselves; they make them work; and those who refuse are punished, kept on bread and water, and not allowed to speak to anyone.--Come now, think and tell me whether the few cherries you have eaten are worth all the punishments that they might bring upon you."

Little Emile made no reply; he gazed at Honorine, furtively at first, but at last made bold to look her in the face, as if to a.s.sure himself that she was not laughing at him, and that she really meant what she had said. Doubtless the young woman's face inspired confidence, for he seemed to reflect; and after a few moments he muttered:

"What am I to do to get cherries then? there ain't any cherry tree at our house; and they won't give me any money to buy any."