all look what we are--one." Yet in this, as in everything else, they
supported each other. They resisted, they struggled, and with a wrench
they conquered day by day. At last, by general consent, Josephine locked
up the tempter, and they looked at it no more. But the little bit of
paper met a kinder fate. Rose made a little frame for it, and it was
kept in a drawer, in the salon: and often looked at and blessed. Just
when they despaired of human friendship, this paper with the sacred
word "friend" written on it, had fallen all in a moment on their aching
hearts.

They could not tell whence it came, this blessed word.

But men dispute whence comes the dew?

Then let us go with the poets, who say it comes from heaven.

And even so that sweet word, friend, dropped like the dew from heaven on
these afflicted ones.

So they locked the potent gold away from themselves, and took the kind
slip of paper to their hearts.

The others left off guessing: Aubertin had it all his own way: he upheld
Perrin as their silent benefactor, and bade them all observe that the
worthy notary had never visited the chateau openly since the day the
purse was left there. "Guilty conscience," said Aubertin dryly.

One day in his walks he met a gaunt figure ambling on a fat pony: he
stopped him, and, holding up his finger, said abruptly, "We have found
you out, Maitre Perrin."