第478章

VICE AND VIRTUE.

Two days have elapsed since Rodin was miraculously restored to life.The reader will not have forgotten the house in the Rue Clovis, where the reverend father had an apartment, and where also was the lodging of Philemon, inhabited by Rose-Pompon.It is about three o'clock in the afternoon.A bright ray of light, penetrating through a round hole in the door Mother Arsene's subterraneous shop, forms a striking contrast with the darkness of this cavern.The ray streams full upon a melancholy object.In the midst of fagots and faded vegetables, and close to a great heap of charcoal, stands a wretched bed; beneath the sheet, which covers it, can be traced the stiff and angular proportions of a corpse.

It is the body of Mother Arsene herself, who died two days before, of the cholera.The burials have been so numerous, that there has been no time to remove her remains.The Rue Clovis is almost deserted.A mournful silence reigns without, often broken by the sharp whistling of the north wind.Between the squalls, one hears a sort of pattering.It is the noise of the large rats, running to and fro across the heap of charcoal.

Suddenly, another sound is heard, and these unclean animals fly to hide themselves in their holes.Some one is trying to force open the door, which communicates between the shop and the passage.It offers but little resistance, and, in a few seconds, the worn-out lock gives way, and a woman enters.For a short time she stands motionless in the obscurity of the damp and icy cave.After a minute's hesitation, the woman advances and the ray of light illumines the features of the Bacchanal Queen.Slowly, she approached the funeral couch.Since the death of Jacques, the alteration in the countenance of Cephyse had gone on increasing.Fearfully pale, with her fine black hair in disorder, her legs and feet naked, she was barely covered with an old patched petticoat and a very ragged handkerchief.

When she came near the bed, she cast a glance of almost savage assurance at the shroud.Suddenly she drew back, with a low cry of involuntary terror.The sheet moved with a rapid undulation, extending from the feet to the head of the corpse.But soon the sight of a rat, flying along the side of the worm-eaten bedstead, explained the movement of the shroud.

Recovering from her fright, Cephyse began to look for several things, and collected them in haste, as though she dreaded being surprised in the miserable shop.First, she seized a basket, and filled it with charcoal;

then, looking from side to side, she discovered in a corner an earthen pot, which she took with a burst of ominous joy.

"It is not all, it is not all," said Cephyse, as she continued to search with an unquiet air.

At last she perceived near the stove a little tin box, containing flint, steel and matches.She placed these articles on the top of the basket, and took it in one hand, and the earthen pot in the other.As she passed near the corpse of the poor charcoal-dealer, Cephyse said, with a strange smile: "I rob you, poor Mother Arsene, but my theft will not do me much good."

Cephyse left the shop, reclosed the door as well as she could, went up the passage, and crossed the little court-yard which separated the front of the building from that part in which Rodin had lodged.With the exception of the windows of Philemon's apartment, where Rose-Pompon had so often sat perched like a bird, warbling Beranger, the other windows of the house were open.There had been deaths on the first and second floors, and, like many others, they were waiting for the cart piled up with coffins.

The Bacchanal Queen gained the stairs, which led to the chambers formerly occupied by Rodin.Arrived at the landing-place she ascended another ruinous staircase, steep as a ladder, and with nothing but an old rope for a rail.She at length reached the half-rotten door of a garret, situated in the roof.The house was in such a state of dilapidation, that, in many places the roof gave admission to the rain, and allowed it to penetrate into this cell, which was not above ten feet square, and lighted by an attic window.All the furniture consisted of an old straw mattress, laid upon the ground, with the straw peeping out from a rent in its ticking; a small earthenware pitcher, with the spout broken, and containing a little water, stood by the side of this couch.Dressed in rags, Mother Bunch was seated on the side of the mattress, with her elbows on her knees, and her face concealed in her thin, white hands.

When Cephyse entered the room, the adopted sister of Agricola raised her head; her pale, mild face seemed thinner than ever, hollow with suffering, grief, misery; her eyes, red with weeping, were fixed on her sister with an expression of mournful tenderness.

"I have what we want, sister," said Cephyse, in a low, deep voice; "in this basket there is wherewith to finish our misery."

Then, showing to Mother Bunch the articles she had just placed on the floor, she added: "For the first time in my life, I have been a thief.

It made me ashamed and frightened; I was never intended for that or worse.It is a pity." added she, with a sardonic smile.

After a moment's silence, the hunchback said to her sister, in a heart-

rending tone: "Cephyse--my dear Cephyse--are you quite determined to die?"

"How should I hesitate?" answered Cephyse, in a firm voice."Come, sister, let us once more make our reckoning.If even I could forget my shame, and Jacques' contempt in his last moments, what would remain to me? Two courses only: first, to be honest, and work for my living.But you know that, in spite of the best will in the world, work will often fail, as it has failed for the last few days, and, even when I got it, I would have to live on four to five francs a week.Live? that is to say, die by inches.I know that already, and I prefer dying at once.The other course would be to live a life of infamy--and that I will not do.

Frankly, sister, between frightful misery, infamy, or death, can the choice be doubtful? Answer me!"