The majority were women; their husbands, gone to their work, left it
to them, no doubt, to plead the cause of the family with the ingenuity
which characterizes the woman of the people, who is almost always
queen in her hovel. You would have seen a torn bandana on every head,
on every form a skirt deep in mud, ragged kerchiefs, worn and dirty
jackets, but eyes that burnt like live coals. It was a horrible
assemblage, raising at first sight a feeling of disgust, but giving a
certain sense of terror the instant you perceived that the resignation
of these souls, all engaged in the struggle for every necessary of
life, was purely fortuitous, a speculation on benevolence. The two
tallow candles which lighted the parlor flickered in a sort of fog
caused by the fetid atmosphere of the ill-ventilated room.

The magistrate himself was not the least picturesque figure in the
midst of this assembly. He had on his head a rusty cotton night-cap;
as he had no cravat, his neck was visible, red with cold and wrinkled,
in contrast with the threadbare collar of his old dressing-gown. His
worn face had the half-stupid look that comes of absorbed attention.
His lips, like those of all men who work, were puckered up like a bag
with the strings drawn tight. His knitted brows seemed to bear the
burden of all the sorrows confided to him: he felt, analyzed, and
judged them all. As watchful as a Jew money-lender, he never raised
his eyes from his books and registers but to look into the very heart
of the persons he was examining, with the flashing glance by which a
miser expresses his alarm.

Lavienne, standing behind his master, ready to carry out his orders,
served no doubt as a sort of police, and welcomed newcomers by
encouraging them to get over their shyness. When the doctor appeared