that of a prison, and decorated with arabesque ironwork of a remote
period that was difficult to determine.

Though Godefroid got into a cabriolet, and was soon rolling into the
living, lighted, glowing regions of Paris, what he had seen still
appeared to him a dream, and his impressions, as he made his way along
the boulevard des Italiens, had already the remoteness of a memory. He
asked himself, "Shall I to-morrow find those people there?"



III

THE HOUSE OF MONGENOD

The next day, as Godefroid rose amid the appointments of modern luxury
and the choice appliances of English "comfort," he remembered the
details of his visit to that cloister of Notre-Dame, and the meaning
of the things he had seen there came into his mind. The three unknown
and silent men, whose dress, attitude, and stillness acted powerfully
upon him, were no doubt boarders like the priest. The solemnity of
Madame de la Chanterie now seemed to him a secret dignity with which
she bore some great misfortune. But still, in spite of the
explanations which Godefroid gave himself, he could not help fancying
there was an air of mystery about those sober figures.

He looked around him and selected the pieces of furniture that he
would keep, those that were indispensable to him; but when he
transported them in thought to the miserable lodging in the rue
Chanoinesse, he began to laugh at the contrast they would make there,