When the young priest hesitated, his fingers had crept back to the gold piece, closed on it, and drawn it back beneath the coverlet again.

He had then peacefully fallen asleep.

It was a gracious memory.
"I don't need much, I don't want a great deal," continued Charley when the tailor did not answer, "but I have to pay for my bed and board, and I can't do it on nothing." "How have you done it so far ?" peevishly replied the tailor.
"By working after hours at carpentering up there"-- he made a gesture towards Vadrome Mountain.

"But I can't go on doing that all the time, or I'll be like you too soon." "Be like me!" The voice of the tailor rose shrilly.
"Be like me! What's the matter with me ?" "Only that you're in a bad way before your time, and that you mayn't get out of this hole without stepping into another.

You work too hard, Monsieur Trudel." "What do you want--wages ?" Charley inclined his head.