Perhaps Salvat had returned to fetch the woman and the child, and perhaps they had followed him to some humble nook abroad.
Still this would have astonished him; for the poor seldom quit their homes, but die where they have suffered.

So he gave another gentle knock.
And at last a faint sound, the light tread of little feet, was heard amidst the silence.

Then a weak, childish voice ventured to inquire: "Who is there ?" "Monsieur l'Abbe." The silence fell again, nothing more stirred.

There was evidently hesitation on the other side.
"Monsieur l'Abbe who came the other day," said Pierre again.
This evidently put an end to all uncertainty, for the door was set ajar and little Celine admitted the priest.

"I beg your pardon, Monsieur l'Abbe," said she, "but Mamma Theodore has gone out, and she told me not to open the door to anyone." Pierre had, for a moment, imagined that Salvat himself was hiding there.
But with a glance he took in the whole of the small bare room, where man, woman and child dwelt together.