Apart from them, Gilbert, for such was the young man's name, simply so for he had no other, saw no living things: Haramont was the deserted village he was seeking. As soon as the door was open, his sight was struck by a scene full of charm, for almost anybody, and particularly for a young philosopher like our roamer. A robust peasant woman was suckling a baby, while another child, a sturdy boy of four or five, was saying a prayer in a loud voice. In the chimney corner, near a window or rather a hole in the wall in which was stuck a pane of glass, another woman, going on for thirty-five or six, was spinning, with a stool under her feet, and a fat poodle on an end of this stool. Catching sight of the visitor the dog barked in a civil and hospitable manner just to show that he had not been caught napping. The praying boy turned, cutting the devotional phrase in two, and both females uttered an exclamation between joy and surprise. "I greet you, good mother Madeline," said Gilbert with a smile. "The gentleman has my name," she cried out with a start. "As you notice; but please do not interrupt me. Instead of one babe at the breast, you are to have the pair." In the rude country-made crib he laid his burden, a little boy. "What a pretty darling!" ejaculated the spinner. "Quite a dear, yes, Aunt Angelique," said Madeline. "Your sister?" inquired the visitor, pointing to the spinner who was also a spinster. "No my man's sister." "Yes, my auntie, my aunt 'Gelique," mumbled the boy, striking into the talk without being asked. "Be quiet, Ange," rebuked his mother: "you are interrupting the gentleman." "My business is very plain, good woman. The child you see is son of one of my master's farmers, the farmer being ruined. My master, his godfather, wants him brought up in the country to become a good workman, hale, and with good manners. Will you undertake this rearing?" "But, master?----" "Born yesterday and never nursed," went on Gilbert. "Besides, this is the nursling which Master Niquet, the lawyer at Villers Cotterets, spoke to you about." Madeline instantly seized the babe and supplied it with the nourishment it craved with a generous impetuosity deeply affecting the young man. "I have not been misled," said he: "you are a good woman. In my master's name, I confide the child to you. I see that he will fare well here, and I trust he will bring into this cabin a dream of happiness together with his own. How much does Master Niquet pay you for his children?" "Twelve livres a-month, sir: but he is rich, and he adds a few pieces for sugar and toys." "Mother Madeline," replied Gilbert proudly, "this child will bring you twenty livres a-month, or two hundred and forty a-year." "Lord bless us! I thank you kindly, master," said the peasant.