“No, no, indeed; I’m sure I never told you that. The long spindle-shanks had gone way,” replied the old maid. She paused to take a breath; then resumed in an indignant tone, “What distressed me most was to hear of all the abominable things that the villain had taught little Muche. You’d really never believe it. There was a whole bundle of papers.” “What sort of abominable things?” asked La Sarriette with interest. “Oh, all kinds of filth. The commissary said there was quite sufficient there to hang him. The fellow’s a perfect monster! To go and demoralise a child! Why, it’s almost past believing! Little Muche is certainly a scamp, but that’s no reason why he should be given over to the ‘Reds,’ is it?” “Certainly not,” assented the two others. “However, all these mysterious goings-on will come to an end now. You remember my telling you once that there was some strange goings-on at the Quenus’? Well, you see, I was right in my conclusions, wasn’t I? Thank God, however, the neighbourhood will now be able to breathe easily. It was high time strong steps were taken, for things had got to such a pitch that one actually felt afraid of being murdered in broad daylight. There was no pleasure in life. All the dreadful stories and reports one heard were enough to worry one to death. And it was all owing to that man, that dreadful Florent. Now beautiful Lisa and the beautiful Norman have sensibly made friends again. It was their duty to do so for the sake of the peace and quietness of us all. Everything will go on satisfactorily now, you’ll find. Ah! there’s poor Monsieur Quenu laughing yonder!” Quenu had again come on to the footway, and was joking with Madame Taboureau’s little servant. He seemed quite gay and skittish that morning. He took hold of the little servant’s hands, and squeezed her fingers so tightly, in the exuberance of his spirits, that he made her cry out. Lisa had the greatest trouble to get him to go back into the kitchen. She was impatiently pacing about the shop, fearing lest Florent should make his appearance; and she called to her husband to come away, dreading a meeting between him and his brother. “She’s getting quite vexed,” said Mademoiselle Saget. “Poor Monsieur Quenu, you see, knows nothing at all about what’s taking place. Just look at him there, laughing like a child! Madame Taboureau, you know, said that she should have nothing more to do with the Quenus if they persisted in bringing themselves into discredit by keeping that Florent with them.” “Well, now, I suppose, they will stick to the fortune,” remarked Madame Lecœur. “Oh, no, indeed, my dear. The other one has had his share already.” “Really? How do you know that?”