In the country the common man toiled a serf without wages, for his master; while in Paris itself, the centre of gayety and fashion, the fruit of his toil was expended by the aristocrats in prodigal luxury. The bourgeoisie or middle class bore the brunt of the taxes. A gay parasitic element, the demi-monde, ministered to the nobles' pleasures. Below, the "submerged tenth" of the thievish and begging classes plied their questionable trades, with a large margin of the city's population on the very verge of starvation. It hints eloquently of the terrible conditions that there were no less than _thirty thousand professional beggars in Paris at this time_. Their wan, pinched faces, gaunt forms and palsied vitality were an outstanding reproach to a flower-like but decadent aristocratic culture founded on the muck of cruelty and oppression. Nothing had the girls (or the simpleminded country Doctor who sped them) known of the dangers or pitfalls of the city. Vile gallantry or viler underworld was looking for just such prey.... CHAPTER III WHAT HAPPENED AT THE COACH HOUSE The Normandy-Paris stage swung into the city as the shades of evening were falling and deposited our heroines at journey's end in a little square beyond the Pont Neuf where the coach house was situated. As they alighted, cries of "Sedan! Sedan chair!" were heard. Brawling chairmen "mixed it" with pummeling fists and kicking legs to be in the front lines for the passengers' custom. 'Twas a terrifying scene from which they were glad to escape to a side bench whence they watched the homeward hurrying throngs and looked vainly for Monsieur Martin. As in the country, Henriette tried to pass the time of day with divers and sundry folk, but it was no use. They gave her queer looks or hurried on, as if stone deaf. "They simply pay no attention to you here!" she complained to Louise, "but never mind! Cousin Martin will come soon, and take us to his home." Presently the city lamplighter was lighting the street lantern above them; he went his way and the Place was deserted. There _was_ a man lurking in the shadows of a portico nearby, though 'twould somewhat strain credulity to imagine him the elderly tradesman Martin. He was a powerful and burly figure, black habited, of impudent visage quite unlike a gentle relative's. In the deeper shadows back of him crouched two fellows, one of whom bore in his hand a black cloth. "Oh, why does not Monsieur Martin come?" said Henriette to herself softly, with a little gesture of half-despair. "I am your cousin Martin!" said the man, advancing upon them with a smirk that was like a leer. Henriette involuntarily drew back, withdrawing Louise a few steps with her. Relief and fear of the strange "cousin" struggled within her. The man laid a hand on the elder girl's arm and at the same time signalled the ruffians. A sudden impulse moved Henriette to wrench herself free.