"Of what did he die?"
"Why, the doctors called his complaint an internal inflammation, I believe; his acquaintances say he died of grief; but I, who saw him in his dying moments, I say he died of———"
Caderousse paused.
"Of what?" asked the priest, anxiously and eagerly.
"Why, of downright starvation."
"Starvation!" exclaimed the abbé, springing from his seat. "Why, the vilest animals are not suffered to die by such a death as that. The very dogs that wander houseless and homeless in the streets find some pitying hand to cast them a mouthful of bread; and that a man, a Christian, should be allowed to perish of hunger in the midst of other men equally Christians with himself, is too horrible for belief. Oh, it is impossible!—utterly impossible!"
"What I have said, I have said," answered Caderousse.
"And you are a fool for having said anything about it," said a voice from the top of the stairs. "Why should you meddle with what does not concern you?"
The two male speakers turned round quickly, and perceived the sickly countenance of La Carconte leaning over the rail of the staircase;—attracted by the sound of voices, she had feebly dragged herself down the stairs, and, seated on the lower step, she had listened to the foregoing conversation.
"Mind your own business, wife," replied Caderousse, sharply. "This gentleman asks me for information, which common politeness will not permit me to refuse."
"Prudence requires you to refuse," retorted La Carconte. "How do you know the motives that person may have for trying to extract all he can from you?"
"I assure you, madame," said the abbé, "that my intentions are good, and that your husband can incur no risk, provided he answers me candidly."
"Ah, that's all very fine," retorted the woman. "Nothing is easier than to begin with fair promises and assurances of nothing to fear; then, some fine day trouble comes on the unfortunate wretches, without one knowing whence."
"Nay, nay, my good woman. No evils will be occasioned by me, I promise you."
Some inarticulate sounds escaped La Carconte, then letting her head, which she had raised, again droop on to her lap, she commenced her usual aguish trembling, leaving the two speakers to resume the conversation, but still remaining herself so placed as to be able to hear
