That we were put there for show entered my mind slowly and brought indignation.  To be so helpless and so exposed was an outrage against which I struggled in nightmare impotence; for I was bare to my hips also, and I knew not what other marks I carried beside those which had scarred me all my conscious life.

Now in the distance, and echoing, feet descended stairs.

I knew that people were coming to look at us, and I could not move a muscle in resentment.

I heard their voices, fringed with echoes, before either speaker came within my vision.

“This is the mortuary chapel of the Hotel Dieu?”

“Yes, monsieur the marquis, this is the mortuary chapel.”

“Um!  Cheerful place!”

“Much more cheerful than the bottom of the river, monsieur the marquis.”

“No doubt.  Never empty, eh?”

“I have been a servant of the Hotel Dieu fourteen years, monsieur the marquis, and have not yet seen all the marble slabs vacant.”

“You receive the bodies of the drowned?”

“And place them where they may be seen and claimed.”

“How long do you keep them?”

“That depends.  Sometimes their friends seek them at once.  We have kept a body three months in the winter season, though he turned very green.”

“Are all in your present collection gathering verdure?”

“No, monsieur.  We have a very fresh one, just brought in; a big stalwart fellow, with the look of the country about him.”

“Small clothes?”

“Yes, monsieur.”

“Buckle shoes?”

“Yes, monsieur.”

“Hair light and long?”

“The very man, monsieur the marquis.”

“I suppose I shall have to look at him.  If he had to make himself unpleasant he should have stayed at the chateau where his mother could identify him.  He is one of my peasants, come to Paris to see life!  I must hold my nose and do it.”

“It is not necessary to hold the nose, monsieur.”

“After fourteen years, perhaps not.”

I heard the snap of a snuff-box lid as the marquis fortified himself.

My agony for the woman who was to be looked at turned so sharp that I uttered a click in my throat.  But they passed her, and merely glanced at my next neighbor.

The old marquis encountered my fixed stare.  Visibly it shocked through him.  He was all gray, and curled and powdered, instead of being clipped close and smooth in the style of the Empire; an exquisite, thin-featured man, high of nose and eyebrows, not large, but completely turned out as ample man and bright spirit.  The slightest fragrance of scent was in his presence, and a shade of snuff on his upper lip appeared fine supercilious hairs.

I did not look at the servant of the Hotel Dieu.  The old noble and I held each other with unflinching gaze.

“Do you recognize him, monsieur?”

“I do,” the old noble deliberately answered.  “I should know this face anywhere.  Have him taken to my carriage directly.”