He answered, harshly and savagely, "You can see, my good woman, that I am going to sleep." The good woman, who was really worthy of the name, was the Marchioness de R----. "On that bench?" she continued. "I have had for nineteen years a wooden mattress," the man said, "and now I have a stone one." "Have you been a soldier?" "Yes, my good woman." "Why do you not go to the inn?" "Because I have no money." "Alas!" said Madame de R----, "I have only two-pence in my purse." "You can give them to me all the same." The man took the money, and Madame de R---- continued, "You cannot lodge at an inn for so small a sum, still you should make the attempt, for you cannot possibly spend the night here. Doubtless you are cold and hungry, and some one might take you in for charity." "I have knocked at every door." "Well?" "And was turned away at all." The "good woman" touched the man's arm and pointed to a small house next to the Bishop's Palace. "You have," she continued, "knocked at every door. Have you done so there?" "No." "Then do it." CHAPTER II PRUDENCE RECOMMENDED TO WISDOM. On this evening, the Bishop of D----, after his walk in the town, had remained in his bed-room till a late hour. He was engaged on a heavy work on the "duties," which he unfortunately has left incomplete. He was still working at eight o'clock, writing rather uncomfortably on small squares of paper, with a large book open on his knees, when Madame Magloire came in as usual to fetch the plate from the wall-cupboard near the bed. A moment after, the Bishop, feeling that supper was ready, and that his sister might be waiting, closed his book, rose from the table, and walked into the dining-room. It was an oblong apartment, as we have said, with a door opening on the street, and a window looking on the garden. Madame Magloire had laid the table, and while attending to her duties, was chatting with Mademoiselle Baptistine. A lamp was on the table, which was close to the chimney, in which a tolerable fire was lighted.