Neither seemed disposed to begin hostilities. Finally the dog rushed upon his adversary, who avoided him adroitly, passed underneath him, and fled in the direction of the quay, the bull-dog giving chase. Away they went, darting among the crowd of pedestrians and in and out between the carriages. In a natural spirit of imitation, the wandering dogs that encountered them running joined in the race, and at the end of a minute Moumouth had more than thirty-seven dogs in pursuit of him. "I am lost," he says to himself, "but at least I shall sell my life dearly." [Illustration: He climbs a Wall.] He backs against a wall, and braces himself haughtily on his feet; his teeth gnashing, his hair bristling, he faces his numerous enemies with so terrible an eye that they recoil like a single man. Profiting by their hesitation, he turns suddenly and scrambles to the top of the wall. He is soon beyond the reach of the dogs, but he is not yet in safety; if he makes a false step, if his strength gives out, if the plaster crumbles under his claws, twenty yawning mouths, hungry for slaughter, are there to tear him to pieces! In the meanwhile, Mother Michel had passed the night in lamentation. She could not control her grief, for the loss of Moumouth; she called him continually in a plaintive voice, and--if we may credit the popular song--the neighbors heard her cry at the window: "Who will bring him back to me?" [Illustration: Mother Michel laments.] The next morning, at the rising of the smiling sun, the perfidious Lustucru presented himself before Mother Michel in order to say to her:-- "Well, my dear companion, have you found him?" "Alas, no!" she murmured. "Have you any news of him?" "Nothing positive," replied the steward, who wished to torment the poor woman; "but I dreamed of him all night long; he appeared to me in a dream, with his face pale and an exhausted air, like a cat who did not feel very well." [Illustration: Father Lustucru dreams.] "In what place was he?" "He seemed to be in a garden, at the foot of a lilac-bush." Mother Michel instantly ran to the garden, where, as you may imagine, she did not find Moumouth. During the whole day Lustucru amused himself by giving her false exultations, which were followed by increased despondency. "Mother Michel," said he, "just now, in passing the store-room, I thought I heard a kind of meyowing." Mother Michel hastened to visit the store-room. Presently he came to her out of breath, and said:-- [Illustration: Illustration: Mother Michel encounters nothing but Rats.] "We have him at last! I am nearly certain that he is rummaging in the cellar." And Mother Michel ventured into the gloomy vaults of the cellar, where she encountered nothing but rats. It was near the close of the day that Lustucru pronounced these words, which a popular song has happily preserved for us:--