“Yes; but when he was not here?”

“Ah, when he was not here, I had, to be sure, some heavy moments.  I thought of my eyes—­the light is so beautiful!  Oh, God! cried I, in anguish, if ever I should see clearly again, I would get up at three o’clock. in the morning, and I would, not go to bed till ten at night, that I might gather up more light.”

“James, James!” said his wife.

“You are right, Juliana; he has forbidden me to be sad.  He would perceive it, sir.  Do you think that when my head had gone wrong in the night, and he came in the morning, and merely looked at me, he would say—­’James, you have been thinking that;’ and then he would scold me, this dear friend.  Yes,” added he, with an expression of joy—­“he would scold me, and that would give me pleasure, because he tried to make his words cross, but he could not do it.”

“And what gave you the idea of becoming a water-carrier?”

“He gave me that, also.  Do you suppose I have ideas?  I began to lose my grief, but my time hung heavy on my hands.  At thirty-two years old, to be sitting all day in a chair!  He then began to instruct me, as he said, and he told me beautiful stories.  The Bible—­the history of an old man, blind like me, named Tobias; the history of Joseph; the history of David; the history of Jesus Christ.  And then he made me repeat them after him.  But my head, it was hard—­it was hard; it was not used to learning, and I was always getting tired in my arms and my legs.”

“And he tormented us to death,” said his wife, laughing.

“True, true,” replied he, laughing also; “I became cross.  He came again, and said,

“‘James, you must go to work.’

“I showed him my poor, burned hands.

“‘It is no matter; I have bought you a capital in trade.’

“‘Me, Mr. Desgranges?’

“’Yes, James, a capital into which they never put goods, and where they always find them.’

“‘It must have cost you a great deal, sir.’

“‘Nothing at all, my lad.’

“‘What is then this fund?’

“‘The river.’

“‘The river?  Do you wish me to become a fisherman?’

“‘Not all; a water-carrier.’

“‘Water-carrier! but eyes?’

“’Eyes; of what use are they? do the dray-horses have eyes?  If they do, they make use of them; if they do not, they do without them.  Come, you must be a water-carrier.’

“‘But a cask?’

“‘I will give you one.’

“‘A cart?’

“‘I have ordered one at the cart-maker’s.’

“‘But customers?’

“I will give you my custom, to begin with, eighteen francs a month; (my dear friend pays for water as dearly as for wine.) Moreover, you have nothing to say, either yes or no.  I have dismissed my water-carrier, and you would not let my wife and me die with thirst.  This dear Madame Desgranges, just think of it.  And so, my boy, in three days—­work.  And you, Madam James, come here;’ and he carried off Juliana.”