The cradle was dissolved instantly; with a scream, the lady sprang to her feet, caught her favourite in both hands, held it at arm's length above her head, and looking up to it, whirled round the cell, singing and laughing, and every now and then kissing the cat, and elevating it again. Her grey hair broke from its fastenings, fell down her back, and flew around, as she spun about the room. 'My Gabriel! my angel! Look me in the eyes and say you love me. Tell me, are you well? Yes; I am sure you are. How beautifully you are dressed in a new yellow coat! Let me see your teeth, are they sound? And your paws, as soft and silky as ever? My Gabriel!' She hugged the cat till it screeched with pain. In one of her twirls, the unfortunate woman cast herself against Gabrielle, and then, for the first time, she recognized her. 'It is you! Gabrielle, my cat's wife! my friend! How come you here?' She caught the girl passionately to her heart, and covered her face with kisses. Then, without notice, her laughter and joy were exchanged for tears and grief. 'The Beast!' she cried. 'He has shut you up also. Oh, the Beast, the Beast!' She ground her teeth, curled back her grey lips, her black eyes darted lightnings, and her nostrils became rigid. 'See this!' she continued, as she opened one of her drawers, and drew from it a brown velvet jacket, and flung it on the floor; 'this shall be the Beast.' She threw herself upon it; with her teeth and nails she worried it as a dog worries a rabbit-skin; she danced on it and tore it, she bit upon it and made her teeth meet through it, she ripped the buttons off with her mouth and spat them about the floor, and then she kicked it round the room and stamped on it, and beat it with her fist, kneeling upon it, with her head forward, and her grey hairs falling over her face and concealing it. The sight was horrible and revolting, and Gabrielle interfered. 'Madame! dearest mistress,' she said, drawing her hands away from the now tattered vestment, 'you are quite mistaken. Indeed you are wrong. M. Berthier has not sent me here; he does not know that I have come here. I have walked all the way to Paris to see you, and to bring you your cat.' 'My cat, where is he?' the poor woman exclaimed, starting to her knees, and looking round. Then, catching sight of the yellow creature, she held out her hands to him, and addressed endearing terms to him. Gabriel was frightened, and had mounted the table, where he stood with his tail erect, staring at his excited mistress. The peasantess took the opportunity of a change in the direction of the thoughts of Madame Plomb to remove the garment she had misused, and to hide it. After the stream of passionate expressions addressed to the cat had ceased to flow with the same copiousness and rapidity as at first, Gabrielle knelt before madame, and laid her hands on her lap. 'Madame,' she said, 'are you tired of being here?'