Jean's lark sang more loudly than ever, and Lucy's eyes had brightened as she told the cripple again and again how she loved its sweet notes; and, watching her press her lips once to the cage-wires, inviting the speckled bird to take a seed from the rosy prison, Jean's eyes dimmed as he gazed at her with a reverence approaching adoration. Visitor after visitor came to that attic, and went, buying and selling, and the little prisoners were constantly being changed; but the lark was there still, though more than once of late Jean had pressed its acceptance upon Lucy Grey; but with a sweet smile she had thanked him, begging that he would keep it for her sake; and he kept it, in spite of many an angry word from _ma mere_ when some advantageous offer had been made by a visitor; and it still whistled from its perch in the window. "I will sell the bird myself; it is waste, it is pity, when we are so poor," _ma mere_ would exclaim; and then Jean would turn upon her a peculiar soft, sweet smile, and whisper, "No, _ma mere_, you will not sell my bird, because I love it;" when passionately the old woman would now scold, now fondle the cripple, as she hung over the back of his chair. One evening when the moon hung high in air, waiting the fading of day before shedding her pale light, Jean sat in his usual place in the window, dreaming of scenes of which he had read, and thinking himself in some sweet woodland home, forgetting the presence of squalor and misery, and even of the cages, as he listened to the twittering of the many birds hung around his head. There was a brightness in his eye and a smile upon his lip, for he was gazing across the court at just such a scene as once almost spellbound the curate. Merrily romping with the child, he could see Lucy in Jarker's room, flitting backwards and forwards past the open window. The child's happy laugh could be heard mingled with its shouts of pleasure, for the pent-up joyousness of its little nature was now having free vent. All at once Jean's look of quiet enjoyment changed to one of unutterable rage and despair; the lips, but now apart in a soft smile, were drawn, as if by some fearful pain, his teeth were clenched, and his eyes wild and dilated. He tried to rise, but his helplessness was such that he sank back in his chair panting; but, raising his crutch, he struck savagely on the casement, shivering two or three of the little panes. He tried again and again to get up, and inarticulate sounds came from his lips. It was pitiful to gaze upon the struggle between the strong mind and the weak body, which would not obey his will as he tried again to rise; till, with a savage, guttural cry, more like that of some disappointed beast of prey than a human being, he threw himself towards the open window, as in his efforts his chair was overturned and he fell upon the floor, where he lay agonisingly writhing in his impotence, as he absolutely foamed at the mouth.