We lost sight of Moumouth at the moment when, precipitated from the parapet of the bridge of Notre Dame, he found himself struggling in the water. Luckily for him, the piles of the principal arch had a wide ledge, to which he was able to attach himself. From this place he cast a glance around him. The Seine appeared to him a boundless ocean, which it was beyond his strength to cross; rather than attempt to reach the shores that seemed to recede before him, he prepared to stay where he was, at the risk of perishing with hunger or cold, or being swept away by a wave. He mewed at first in sign of distress, but very soon, believing himself hopelessly lost, he judged it useless to tire his lungs, and awaited the end with a resignation which formed the basis of his character. Toward five o'clock in the morning, two gentlemen from the island of Saint-Louis,--two very skillful amateur fishermen,--came to throw their lines from the top of the bridge of Notre Dame. "You are early, neighbor Guignolet," said the person who arrived last; "it appears that we have both had the same idea." "And we have done well, neighbor Groquemouche; there was a rise in the river last night, great numbers of fish have descended from the upper Seine, and one will have to be dreadfully awkward not to take them." [Illustration: "Agreed!" said M. Guignolet.] "Will you enter into an agreement, neighbor Guignolet? Let us fish in partnership, divide the catch, and dine together to-day." "Agreed!" said M. Guignolet, and as each held his line in his right hand, they clasped their left hands together in token of the treaty. On seeing the two cords descend Moumouth conceived some hope. As soon as they were within his reach he grappled them, and the fishermen, feeling the unusual weight, cried out with one voice, "A bite! a bite!" and hastened to haul in their lines. [Illustration: The Fishermen pursue the Cat.] "I bet I have caught a wattle," said M. Guignolet, regretting that he couldn't rub his hands together to testify his satisfaction. "I must have an immense carp," replied M. Groquemouche. He had scarcely finished the sentence when Moumouth leaped over the parapet. "Treason!" cried the two fishers, who started in pursuit of the quadruped that had come so miraculously out of the water; but Moumouth ran faster than they did and easily escaped them. [Illustration: Moumouth grapples the Lines.] When he was alone, he took breath, examined the houses, and, not finding one that resembled his, naturally concluded that it was not there. It was necessary, however, to find shelter; shivering with cold and panting with his exertions, he could not remain a moment longer in the street without exposing himself to an inflammation of the chest. Guided by a light, he made his way into the basement of a baker's shop, and, hiding himself behind a pile of bread-baskets, went quietly to sleep. He was awakened by hunger.