“You were frightened?”

“No, not exactly; but I thought I must be indebted to a man of the lowest class, to some poor fellow who was really starving, and my first effort at gratitude was to offer him a piece of gold.”

“Did he refuse it?”

“No; he accepted it for the poor of the parish.  Then he told me his name, Cyrano Derues de Bury, and told me that the shop and the goods it contained were his own property, and that he occupied an apartment in the house.  I floundered in excuses, but he replied that he blessed the mistake, inasmuch as it would enable him to relieve some unfortunate people.  I was so touched with his goodness that I offered him a second piece of gold.”

“You were quite right, my dear; but what induced you to bring him to Buisson?  I should have gone to see and thank him the first time I went to Paris, and meanwhile a letter would have been sufficient.  Did he carry his complaisance and interest so far as to offer you his escort?”

“Ah!  I see you cannot get over your first impression—­honestly, is it not so?”

“Indeed,” exclaimed Monsieur de Lamotte, laughing heartily, “it is truly unlucky for a decent man to have such a face as that!  He ought to give Providence no rest until he obtains the gift of another countenance.”

“Always these prejudices!  It is not the poor man’s fault that he was born like that.”

“Well, you said something about business we were to discuss together —­what is it?”

“I believe he can help us to obtain the money we are in want of.”

“And who told him that we wanted any?”

“I did.”

“You!  Come, it certainly seems that this gentleman is to be a family friend.  And pray what induced you to confide in him to this extent?”

“You would have known by now, if you did not interrupt.  Let me tell you all in order.  The day after my accident I went out with Edouard about midday, and I went to again express my gratitude for his kindness.  I was received by Madame Derues, who told me her husband was out, and that he had gone to my hotel to inquire after me and my son, and also to see if anything had been heard of my stolen earrings.  She appeared a simple and very ordinary sort of person, and she begged me to sit down and wait for her husband.  I thought it would be uncivil not to do so, and Monsieur Derues appeared in about two hours.  The first thing he did, after having saluted me and inquired most particularly after my health, was to ask for his children, two charming little things, fresh and rosy, whom he covered with kisses.  We talked about indifferent matters, then he offered me his services, placed himself at my disposal, and begged me to spare neither his time nor his trouble.  I then told him what had brought me to Paris, and also the disappointments I had encountered, for of all the people I had seen not one had given me a favourable answer.  He said that he might possibly be of