I am going into town.

There is nothing I can do for you, then ?" "Nothing; we thank you very much." When he was gone, Gabrielle exclaimed, "Now that is what I call an opportunity wasted." "We must beware, my child, who we trust," said my mother.
"Of course; but he was so evidently a harmless, good sort of man." "We had no occasion to trouble him." Gabrielle plainly thought there was a good deal of occasion.

Indeed, had she known she was actually doomed to spend a few days in the vaults of Les Arenes, I am persuaded she would have fitted them up with upholstery and eatables, even to pickles and preserves.

Meanwhile Madeleine was beguiling the time to the children by setting them easy sums on the wall, scratched with a nail, and drawing pictures for them with the same implement, accompanied with stories, as thus:--"Once on a time there was a poor Christian captive in this very dungeon--here he is (drawing his picture)--sentenced to be thrown to the lions (picture).
Once he had been a little boy like this (picture), fond of playing with other little boys (picture), and ready to carry his mother's pitcher to the well (picture), or sweep her floor (picture), or make himself useful to her in any way whatever.

One day,"-- and so forth.