It was not long after the incident last mentioned. Chester had become accustomed to his new lift in fortune, but as yet no further word as to the manuscript had reached him; he had only just written a second letter of inquiry1 after it. Also that summons to the two aunts, from the archbishop, of which the pair were so sure, was still unheard; no need had arisen for Aline to take any counter-step. We could name the exact date, for it was the day of the week on which the Courier always came, and the week was the last in which a Canal Street movie-show beautifully presented the matchless Bernhardt as a widowed shopkeeper--like Mme. Alexandre, but with a son, not daughter, in love.
The door-bell rang. Castanado went down to the street. There, letting in a visitor, he spoke2 with such animation3 that madame, listening from her special seat, guessed, and before the two were half up-stairs knew, who it was. It was Mélanie Alexandre.
No one answered her mother's bell, she said, kissing madame lingeringly, twice on the forehead and once on either vast cheek. She was short and square, with such serene4 kindness of face and voice as to be the last you would ever pick out to fall into a mistake of passion, however exalted5. Of course, that serenity6 may have come since the mistake. Both Castanados seemed to take note of it as if it had come since, and she to be willing they should note it.
"No," they said, "Mme. Alexandre had gone with Dubroca and his wife to that movie of Sarah."
"And also with M. Beloiseau?" asked Mélanie, with a lurking7 smile, as she sat down so fondly close to madame as to leave both her small hands in one of her friend's.
"Ah, now," madame exclaimed, "there is nothing in that! You ought to be rijoice' if there was."
The new look warmed in Mélanie's eyes. "I'll be very glad if that time ever comes," she said.
"Then you billieve in the second love?"
"Ah, in a case like that! Indeed, yes. In their first love they both were happy; the second would be in praise of the first."
"And to separate them there is only the street," Castanado suggested, "and Royal Street, street of their birth and chilehood, and so narrow, it have the effect to join, not separate. But!"--he made a wary8 motion--"kip quite, eize they will not go into the net, those old bird', hah!"
There was a smiling silence, and then--"Well," madame said, "they are all to stop here as they riturn. Waiting here, you'll see them all."
"Yes, and beside', I have some good news for you; news anyhow to me."
The pair smiled brightly: "You 'ave another letter from Dubroca!"
"Yes. He's again wounded and in hospital."
"Oh-h, terrible! tha'z to you good news?"
"Yes. Look, monsieur; he has, at the front, the chance to be hit so many times. If he's hit and only wounded his chances to be hit again are made one less, eh? And while he's in hospital they are again two or three less. Shall we not be glad for that? And moreover, how he got his wound, that is better. He got that taking, by himself, nine Boches! And still the best news is what he writes about his friend Castanado."
"Ah, Mélanie! And you hold that back till now? And you know we are without news of him sinze a month! He's promote'? He's decorate'?"
"He's found a treasure. I think maybe you'll get his letter to-morrow. Me, I got mine soon; passing the post-office I went in and asked."
"But how, he found a treasure? and what sort?"
"He just happened to dig it up, in a cellar, in Rheims. He's
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