Wasn't it you, Monsieur Duthil, who was charged with this man Laveuve's affair ?" The deputy was finishing a glass of Chartreuse.

"Yes, it was I.That fine fellow played you a comedy, Monsieur l'Abbe.

He isn't at all ill, and if you left him any money you may be sure he went down to drink it as soon as you were gone.

For he is always drunk; and, besides that, he has the most hateful disposition imaginable, crying out from morning till evening against the _bourgeois_, and saying that if he had any strength left in his arms he would undertake to blow up the whole show.

And, moreover, he won't go into the asylum; he says that it's a real prison where one's guarded by Beguins who force one to hear mass, a dirty convent where the gates are shut at nine in the evening! And there are so many of them like that, who rather than be succoured prefer their liberty, with cold and hunger and death.