gone in, and then locked the door."

"Well, if one must be so exact, the boy was not found actually in
Notre Dame, obstinate child," returned his mother impatiently--"It
happened at midnight,--the good Cardinal heard someone crying and
went to see who it was. And he found a poor boy outside the
Cathedral weeping as if his heart were breaking, and leaning his
head against the hard door for a pillow. And he brought him back and
gave him his own bed to sleep in;--and the lad is with him now."

Little Fabien Doucet, leaning on his crutch, looked up with
interest.

"Is he lame like me?" he asked.

"No, child," replied Madame compassionately--"He is straight and
strong. In truth a very pretty boy."

Fabien sighed. Babette made a dash forward.

"I will go and see him!" she said--"And I will call Monseigneur."

"Babette! How dare you! Babette!"

But Babette had scurried defiantly past her mother, and breathless
with a sense of excitement and disobedience intermingled, had burst
into the Cardinal's room without knocking. There on the threshold
she paused,--somewhat afraid at her own boldness,--and startled too
at the sight of Manuel, who was seated near the window opposite the
Cardinal, and who turned his deep blue eyes upon her with a look of