calamity; when the town had come to an end, it inaugurated the
hamlet.'

'I, too, am glad of that,' said Jean-Marie.
'It should be the temple of the humbler virtues,' responded the

Doctor with a savoury gusto. 'Perhaps one of the reasons why I
love my little hamlet as I do, is that we have a similar history,

she and I. Have I told you that I was once rich?'
'I do not think so,' answered Jean-Marie. 'I do not think I should

have forgotten. I am sorry you should have lost your fortune.'
'Sorry?' cried the Doctor. 'Why, I find I have scarce begun your

education after all. Listen to me! Would you rather live in the
old Gretz or in the new, free from the alarms of war, with the

green country at the door, without noise, passports, the exactions
of the soldiery, or the jangle of the curfew-bell to send us off to

bed by sundown?'
'I suppose I should prefer the new,' replied the boy.

'Precisely,' returned the Doctor; 'so do I. And, in the same way,
I prefer my present moderate fortune to my former wealth. Golden

mediocrity! cried the adorable ancients; and I subscribe to their
enthusiasm. Have I not good wine, good food, good air, the fields

and the forest for my walk, a house, an admirable wife, a boy whom
I protest I cherish like a son? Now, if I were still rich, I

should indubitably make my residence in Paris - you know Paris -
Paris and Paradise are not convertible terms. This pleasant noise

of the wind streaming among leaves changed into the grinding Babel
of the street, the stupid glare of plaster substituted for this

quiet pattern of greens and greys, the nerves shattered, the
digestion falsified - picture the fall! Already you perceive the

consequences; the mind is stimulated, the heart steps to a
different measure, and the man is himself no longer. I have

passionately studied myself - the true business of philosophy. I
know my character as the musician knows the ventages of his flute.

Should I return to Paris, I should ruin myself gambling; nay, I go
further - I should break the heart of my Anastasie with

infidelities.'
This was too much for Jean-Marie. That a place should so transform

the most excellent of men transcended his belief. Paris, he
protested, was even an agreeable place of residence. 'Nor when I

lived in that city did I feel much difference,' he pleaded.
'What!' cried the Doctor. 'Did you not steal when you were there?'

But the boy could never be brought to see that he had done anything
wrong when he stole. Nor, indeed, did the Doctor think he had; but

that gentleman was never very scrupulous when in want of a retort.
'And now,' he concluded, 'do you begin to understand? My only

friends were those who ruined me. Gretz has been my academy, my
sanatorium, my heaven of innocent pleasures. If millions are

offered me, I wave them back: RETRO, SATHANAS! - Evil one, begone!
Fix your mind on my example; despiseriches, avoid the debasing

influence of cities. Hygiene - hygiene and mediocrity of fortune -
these be your watchwords during life!'

The Doctor's system of hygiene strikingly coincided with his
tastes; and his picture of the perfect life was a faithful

description of the one he was leading at the time. But it is easy
to convince a boy, whom you supply with all the facts for the

discussion. And besides, there was one thing admirable in the
philosophy, and that was the enthusiasm of the philosopher. There

was never any one more vigorously determined to be pleased; and if
he was not a great logician, and so had no right to convince the

intellect, he was certainly something of a poet, and had a
fascination to seduce the heart. What he could not achieve in his

customary humour of a radiantadmiration of himself and his
circumstances, he sometimes effected in his fits of gloom.

'Boy,' he would say, 'avoid me to-day. If I were superstitious, I
should even beg for an interest in your prayers. I am in the black

fit; the evil spirit of King Saul, the hag of the merchant Abudah,
the personal devil of the mediaeval monk, is with me - is in me,'

tapping on his breast. 'The vices of my nature are now uppermost;
innocent pleasures woo me in vain; I long for Paris, for my

wallowing in the mire. See,' he would continue, producing a
handful of silver, 'I denude myself, I am not to be trusted with

the price of a fare. Take it, keep it for me, squander it on
deleterious candy, throw it in the deepest of the river - I will

homologate your action. Save me from that part of myself which I
disown. If you see me falter, do not hesitate; if necessary, wreck

the train! I speak, of course, by a parable. Any extremity were
better than for me to reach Paris alive.'

Doubtless the Doctor enjoyed these little scenes, as a variation in
his part; they represented the Byronic element in the somewhat

artificial poetry of his existence; but to the boy, though he was
dimly aware of their theatricality, they represented more. The

Doctor made perhaps too little, the boy possibly too much, of the
reality and gravity of these temptations.

One day a great light shone for Jean-Marie. 'Could not riches be
used well?' he asked.

'In theory, yes,' replied the Doctor. 'But it is found in
experience that no one does so. All the world imagine they will be

exceptional when they grow wealthy; but possession is debasing, new
desires spring up; and the silly taste for ostentation eats out the

heart of pleasure.'
'Then you might be better if you had less,' said the boy.

'Certainly not,' replied the Doctor; but his voice quavered as he
spoke.

'Why?' demanded pitiless innocence.
Doctor Desprez saw all the colours of the rainbow in a moment; the

stable universe appeared to be about capsizing with him.
'Because,' said he - affecting deliberation after an obvious pause

- 'because I have formed my life for my present income. It is not
good for men of my years to be violently dissevered from their

habits.'
That was a sharp brush. The Doctor breathed hard, and fell into

taciturnity for the afternoon. As for the boy, he was delighted
with the resolution of his doubts; even wondered that he had not

foreseen the obvious and conclusive answer. His faith in the
Doctor was a stout piece of goods. Desprez was inclined to be a

sheet in the wind's eye after dinner, especially after Rhone wine,
his favourite weakness. He would then remark on the warmth of his

feeling for Anastasie, and with inflamed cheeks and a loose,
flustered smile, debate upon all sorts of topics, and be feebly and

indiscreetly witty. But the adopted stable-boy would not permit
himself to entertain a doubt that savoured of ingratitude. It is

quite true that a man may be a second father to you, and yet take
too much to drink; but the best natures are ever slow to accept

such truths.
The Doctor thoroughly possessed his heart, but perhaps he

exaggerated his influence over his mind. Certainly Jean-Marie
adopted some of his master's opinions, but I have yet to learn that

he ever surrendered one of his own. Convictions existed in him by
divine right; they were virgin, unwrought, the brute metal of

decision. He could add others indeed, but he could not put away;
neither did he care if they were perfectly agreed among themselves;

and his spiritual pleasures had nothing to do with turning them
over or justifying them in words. Words were with him a mere

accomplishment, like dancing. When he was by himself, his
pleasures were almost vegetable. He would slip into the woods

towards Acheres, and sit in the mouth of a cave among grey birches.
His soul stared straight out of his eyes; he did not move or think;

sunlight, thin shadows moving in the wind, the edge of firs against
the sky, occupied and bound his faculties. He was pure unity, a

spirit wholly abstracted. A single mood filled him, to which all
the objects of sense contributed, as the colours of the spectrum

merge and disappear in white light.
So while the Doctor made himself drunk with words, the adopted

stable-boy bemused himself with silence.
CHAPTER V. TREASURE TROVE.