to prevent him from committing a crime. In his paroxysms, so strong an
impulse to kill seized him that he would have thrown himself upon the
first passer-by. He was of small stature, very dark, with a retreating
forehead, an aquiline face with a large nose and a very short chin,
and his left cheek was noticeably larger than his right. And the
doctor had obtained miraculous results with this victim of emotional
insanity, who for a month past had had no attack. The nurse, indeed
being questioned, answered that Sarteur had become quiet and was
growing better every day.

"Do you hear, Clotilde?" cried Pascal, enchanted. "I have not the time
to see him this evening, but I will come again to-morrow. It is my
visiting day. Ah, if I only dared; if she were young still--"

His eyes turned toward Aunt Dide. But Clotilde, whom his enthusiasm
made smile, said gently:

"No, no, master, you cannot make life anew. There, come. We are the
last."

It was true; the others had already gone. Macquart, on the threshold,
followed Felicite and Maxime with his mocking glance as they went
away. Aunt Dide, the forgotten one, sat motionless, appalling in her
leanness, her eyes again fixed upon Charles with his white, worn face
framed in his royal locks.

The drive back was full of constraint. In the heat which exhaled from
the earth, the landau rolled on heavily to the measured trot of the
horses. The stormy sky took on an ashen, copper-colored hue in the
deepening twilight. At first a few indifferent words were exchanged;