At the same moment Hexe-Baizel made her appearance, sweeping the dung into the abyss with a large besom made of green broom. She was a little, withered woman, with red tangled locks, hollow cheeks, sharp nose, small eyes sparkling like stars, pinched mouth, amply furnished with very white teeth, and a ruddy complexion. As to her costume, it was composed of a very short and very dirty woollen petticoat, a coarse chemise, tolerably clean; her small, muscular arms, covered with a sort of yellow down, were bare to the elbows, in spite of the excessive cold of the atmosphere at this height. To complete her costume, the only coverings to her feet were a pair of old worn-out shoes, down at the heel. "Ah! good morrow, Hexe-Baizel," exclaimed Jean-Claude, in a tone of mocking good humour. "You are as fat and comely as ever--I see, happy and contented! It does one good to see you." Hexe-Baizel had started at the first sound of Jean-Claude's voice like a weasel caught in a trap; her red hair seemed to stand on end, and her little sparkling eyes flashed fire; but she instantly recovered herself, and exclaimed, in a short, sharp tone, as if speaking to herself: "Hullin! the shoemaker! what does he want?" "I have come to see my friend Marc, fair Hexe-Baizel," replied Jean-Claude; "we have some business to settle." "What business?" "Ah! that is our affair. Come, let me go in, that I may speak to him." "Marc is asleep." "Well, then, he must be awakened, for time presses." So saying, Hullin stooped under the doorway, and entered a cavern, whose vaulted roof, instead of being round, was formed in irregular curves, furrowed with crevices. Quite close to the entrance, and two feet from the ground, the rock made a sort of natural hearth; on this hearth a few lumps of coal and some juniper branches were burning. All Hexe-Baizel's cooking utensils consisted of a copper saucepan, an earthenware porringer, two cracked plates, and three or four pewter spoons; all her furniture of a wooden bench, a wood-cutter's hatchet, a salt-box hung against the rock, and her large besom made of green broom. To the left of this kitchen was another cavern, with an uneven-shaped door, larger at the bottom than the top, and which shut by means of two planks and a cross-beam. "Well, where is Marc?" said Hullin, as he seated himself beside the hearth. "I've told you already he is asleep. He came home very late yesterday. My man must have his rest; do you understand?" "I understand very well, Hexe-Baizel; but I've no time to wait." "Begone, then." "It's very easy to say 'Begone,' only I don't want to go. I've not come a whole league to go back with my hands in my pockets." "Is that you, Hullin?" broke in a rough voice, issuing from the inner cave. "Yes, Marc." "Oh! here I am."