'Oh, I don't know - I must have thrown them away! Where are they?'

she sobbed.
Desprez groped about in the darkness. 'Admirable!' he remarked;

'my grey velveteen trousers! This will exactly meet your
necessities.'

'Give them to me!' she cried fiercely; but as soon as she had them
in her hands her mood appeared to alter - she stood silent for a

moment, and then pressed the garment back upon the Doctor. 'Give
it to Aline,' she said - 'poor girl.'

'Nonsense!' said the Doctor. 'Aline does not know what she is
about. Aline is beside herself with terror; and at any rate, she

is a peasant. Now I am really concerned at this exposure for a
person of your housekeeping habits; my solicitude and your

fantastic modesty both point to the same remedy - the pantaloons.'
He held them ready.

'It is impossible. You do not understand,' she said with dignity.
By this time rescue was at hand. It had been found impracticable

to enter by the street, for the gate was blocked with masonry, and
the nodding ruin still threatened further avalanches. But between

the Doctor's garden and the one on the right hand there was that
very picturesquecontrivance - a common well; the door on the

Desprez' side had chanced to be unbolted, and now, through the
arched aperture a man's bearded face and an arm supporting a

lantern were introduced into the world of windy darkness, where
Anastasie concealed her woes. The light struck here and there

among the tossing apple boughs, it glinted on the grass; but the
lantern and the glowing face became the centre of the world.

Anastasie crouched back from the intrusion.
'This way!' shouted the man. 'Are you all safe?' Aline, still

screaming, ran to the new comer, and was presently hauled head-
foremost through the wall.

'Now, Anastasie, come on; it is your turn,' said the husband.
'I cannot,' she replied.

'Are we all to die of exposure, madame?' thundered Doctor Desprez.
'You can go!' she cried. 'Oh, go, go away! I can stay here; I am

quite warm.'
The Doctor took her by the shoulders with an oath.

'Stop!' she screamed. 'I will put them on.'
She took the detested lendings in her hand once more; but her

repulsion was stronger than shame. 'Never!' she cried, shuddering,
and flung them far away into the night.

Next moment the Doctor had whirled her to the well. The man was
there and the lantern; Anastasie closed her eyes and appeared to

herself to be about to die. How she was transported through the
arch she knew not; but once on the other side she was received by

the neighbour's wife, and enveloped in a friendly blanket.
Beds were made ready for the two women, clothes of very various

sizes for the Doctor and Jean-Marie; and for the remainder of the
night, while madame dozed in and out on the borderland of

hysterics, her husband sat beside the fire and held forth to the
admiring neighbours. He showed them, at length, the causes of the

accident; for years, he explained, the fall had been impending; one
sign had followed another, the joints had opened, the plaster had

cracked, the old walls bowed inward; last, not three weeks ago, the
cellar door had begun to work with difficulty in its grooves. 'The

cellar!' he said, gravely shaking his head over a glass of mulled
wine. 'That reminds me of my poor vintages. By a manifest

providence the Hermitage was nearly at an end. One bottle - I lose
but one bottle of that incomparable wine. It had been set apart

against Jean-Marie's wedding. Well, I must lay down some more; it
will be an interest in life. I am, however, a man somewhat

advanced in years. My great work is now buried in the fall of my
humble roof; it will never be completed - my name will have been

writ in water. And yet you find me calm - I would say cheerful.
Can your priest do more?'

By the first glimpse of day the party sallied forth from the
fireside into the street. The wind had fallen, but still charioted

a world of troubled clouds; the air bit like frost; and the party,
as they stood about the ruins in the rainy twilight of the morning,

beat upon their breasts and blew into their hands for warmth. The
house had entirely fallen, the walls outward, the roof in; it was a

mere heap of rubbish, with here and there a forlorn spear of broken
rafter. A sentinel was placed over the ruins to protect the

property, and the party adjourned to Tentaillon's to break their
fast at the Doctor's expense. The bottle circulated somewhat

freely; and before they left the table it had begun to snow.
For three days the snow continued to fall, and the ruins, covered

with tarpaulin and watched by sentries, were left undisturbed. The
Desprez' meanwhile had taken up their abode at Tentaillon's.

Madame spent her time in the kitchen, concocting little delicacies,
with the admiring aid of Madame Tentaillon, or sitting by the fire

in thoughtful abstraction. The fall of the house affected her
wonderfully little; that blow had been parried by another; and in

her mind she was continually fighting over again the battle of the
trousers. Had she done right? Had she done wrong? And now she

would applaud her determination; and anon, with a horrid flush of
unavailing penitence, she would regret the trousers. No juncture

in her life had so much exercised her judgment. In the meantime
the Doctor had become vastly pleased with his situation. Two of

the summer boarders still lingered behind the rest, prisoners for
lack of a remittance; they were both English, but one of them spoke

French pretty fluently, and was, besides, a humorous, agile-minded
fellow, with whom the Doctor could reason by the hour, secure of

comprehension. Many were the glasses they emptied, many the topics
they discussed.

'Anastasie,' the Doctor said on the third morning, 'take an example
from your husband, from Jean-Marie! The excitement has done more

for the boy than all my tonics, he takes his turn as sentry with
positive gusto. As for me, you behold me. I have made friends

with the Egyptians; and my Pharaoh is, I swear it, a most agreeable
companion. You alone are hipped. About a house - a few dresses?

What are they in comparison to the "Pharmacopoeia" - the labour of
years lying buried below stones and sticks in this depressing

hamlet? The snow falls; I shake it from my cloak! Imitate me.
Our income will be impaired, I grant it, since we must rebuild; but

moderation, patience, and philosophy will gather about the hearth.
In the meanwhile, the Tentaillons are obliging; the table, with

your additions, will pass; only the wine is execrable - well, I
shall send for some to-day. My Pharaoh will be gratified to drink

a decent glass; aha! and I shall see if he possesses that acme of
organisation - a palate. If he has a palate, he is perfect.'

'Henri,' she said, shaking her head, 'you are a man; you cannot
understand my feelings; no woman could shake off the memory of so

public a humiliation.' The Doctor could not restrain a titter.
'Pardon me, darling,' he said; 'but really, to the philosophical

intelligence, the incident appears so small a trifle. You looked
extremely well - '

'Henri!' she cried.
'Well, well, I will say no more,' he replied. 'Though, to be sure,

if you had consented to indue - A PROPOS,' he broke off, 'and my
trousers! They are lying in the snow - my favourite trousers!'

And he dashed in quest of Jean-Marie.
Two hours afterwards the boy returned to the inn with a spade under

one arm and a curious sop of clothing under the other.
The Doctor ruefully took it in his hands. 'They have been!' he

said. 'Their tense is past. Excellent pantaloons, you are no
more! Stay, something in the pocket,' and he produced a piece of

paper. 'A letter! ay, now I mind me; it was received on the
morning of the gale, when I was absorbed in delicate

investigations. It is still legible. From poor, dear Casimir! It
is as well,' he chuckled, 'that I have educated him to patience.