man came in. He was tall, serious, and rather stout, and wore a black
frock-coat, and pointed to a chair with his hand. François Tessier sat
down, and then said, panting: "Monsieur ... Monsieur ... I do not know
whether you know my name ... whether you know ..."

Monsieur Flamel interrupted him. "You need not tell it me, Monsieur, I
know it. My wife has spoken to me about you." He spoke in the dignified
tone of voice of a good man who wishes to be severe, and with the
common-place stateliness of an honorable man, and François Tessier
continued: "Well, Monsieur, I want to say this: I am dying of grief, of
remorse, of shame, and I would like once, only once to kiss ... the
child ..."

Monsieur Flamel got up and rang the bell, and when the servant came in,
he said: "Will you bring Louis here." When she had gone out, they
remained face to face, without speaking, as they had nothing more to say
to one another, and waited. Then, suddenly, a little boy of ten rushed
into the room, and ran up to the man whom he believed to be his father,
but he stopped when he saw a stranger, and Monsieur Flamel kissed him
and said: "Now go and kiss that gentleman, my dear." And the child went
up to him nicely, and looked at the stranger.

François Tessier had risen, he let his hat fall, and was ready to fall
himself as he looked at his son, while Monsieur Flamel had turned away,
from a feeling of delicacy, and was looking out of the window.

The child waited in surprise, but he picked up the hat and gave it to
the stranger. Then François, taking the child up in his arms, began to
kiss him wildly all over his face, on his eyes, his cheeks, on his
mouth, on his hair, and the youngster, frightened at the shower of