“Here is the body of a damned person!” he shouted. “_Dieu!_ what an opportunity for the good of your soul! Too much, madame?” he said to a fishwife who grumbled at the price, “too much! ’Tis a chance in a thousand! The body came from the Tour de Constance! Madame will have her money’s worth.” Madame went in, licking her lips like a wolf. The curtain of the tent swung to behind her. A peasant lad followed her, hesitating too over the half-crown, but then the spectacle was worth money. A soldier followed, then a butcher, and two stupid-looking servant-girls, with frightened faces, but still eager to see. Then there was a pause, and the showman began to shout once more; he had need to, for the bear was performing with unusual vivacity, and the _danseuse_ displayed her pretty legs as she tripped on the rope. “Half a crown, messieurs et mesdames,” cried the man of the black robe; “half a crown to see a dead and damned Huguenot!” “Too much, monsieur!” said a voice behind him. He started and looked back into the face of a little hunchbacked man who had been watching him curiously. “You are not a good Catholic, M. le Bossu!” replied the showman, mocking, for the hunchback wore a poor suit of brown and a frayed hat. “I am a good Catholic,” he replied calmly, “but your price is high--’tis only a dead Huguenot.” “_Dame!_ but live ones are too plenty,” retorted the other, with a loud laugh. “What are you to complain?” he added gayly,--“the hunchback!--_le bossu_!” “_Le Bossu_--yes,” replied the hunchback, calmly; “that is what men call me.” Again the showman mocked him, doffing his cap and grinning. “Your Excellency’s name?” he demanded. The hunchback took no notice of him; he had his hand in his wallet feeling for a half-crown; he had determined to see the damned person. But the other got his answer; a little gamin piped up on the edge of the crowd, pointing his finger at the cripple. “’Tis only Charlot,” he said, “the shoemaker of the Rue St. Antoine.” The showman laughed again. “Enter, Maître Savetier!” he said derisively, “and see the dead Huguenot. _Dame!_ but I believe he is one himself,” he added, under his breath, peering sharply at the pale face of le Bossu as he entered the tent. But a minute later the hunchback was forgotten and the showman was screaming again. “This way, mesdames! This way, to see a damned person! Half a crown! half a crown!”