"True, true," replied the lapidary, "each in turn, that is but fair!"
He went and laid the child in the arms of his wife. Then, hiding his
face between his hands, he groaned bitterly. Madeleine, almost as
frenzied as her husband, laid the child in the straw of her couch, and
watched it with a sort of savage jealousy; while the other children
were kneeling round in tears.

The bailiffs, for a moment softened by the death of the child, soon
returned to their accustomed brutality of conduct. "Oh, look here, my
friend," said Malicorne to the lapidary, "your child is dead; it is
unfortunate, but we are all mortal; we cannot help it, nor can you, so
there's an end of it. We have an extra job to do to-day--a
_swell_ to grab."

Morel did not hear the man. Completely lost in mournful contemplation,
the artisan said to himself, in a hollow and broken voice: "It will be
necessary to bury my poor little girl--to watch her here till they
come to carry her away. But how?--we have nothing! And the coffin!--
who will give us credit? Oh, a little coffin for a child of four years
old ought not to cost much! And then we shall want no bearers! One can
take it under his arm. Ha! ha! ha!" added he, with a frightful burst
of laughter, "how lucky I am! She might perhaps have lived to be
eighteen, Louise's age, and no one would have given me credit for a
large coffin!"

"Egad! this chap seems as though he would lose his senses!" said
Bourdin to Malicorne. "Look at him; he quite frightens me! and how the
old idiot howls with hunger! What a queer lot!"