by the light of a smoking lamp. She was short and very stout. She seemed literally weighed down, and puffed out by an unwholesome and unnatural mass of superfluous flesh; and she was as white as if her veins had been filled with water, instead of blood. Her hanging cheeks, her receding forehead, and her thin lips, imparted an alarming expression of wickedness and cunning to her countenance. At the farther end of the store Fortunat could vaguely discern the figure of a man seated on a stool. He seemed to be asleep, for his crossed arms rested on a table, with his head leaning on them.     

       “Good luck!” whispered Chupin in his employer’s ear; “there is not a customer in the place. Vantrasson and his wife are alone.” This circumstance was by no means displeasing to M. Fortunat, as could be seen by his expression of face. “So, m’sieur,” continued Chupin, “you need have no fears. I’ll remain here and watch, while you go in.”      

       M. Fortunat did so. On hearing the door open and shut, the woman laid down her work. “What can I do for monsieur?” she asked, in a wheedling voice.     

       M. Fortunat did not reply at once; but he drew the note with which he had provided himself from his pocket, and displayed it. “I am a huissier’s clerk,” he then exclaimed; “and I called in reference to this little matter—a note of hand for five hundred and eighty-three francs, value received in goods, signed Vantrasson, and made payable to the order of a person named Barutin.”      

       “An execution!” said the woman, whose voice suddenly soured. “Vantrasson, wake up, and come and see about this.”      

       This summons was unnecessary. On hearing the words “note of hand,” the man had lifted his head; and at the name of Barutin, he rose and approached with a heavy, uncertain step, as if he had not yet slept off his intoxication. He was younger than his wife, tall, with a well-proportioned and athletic form. His features were regular, but the abuse of alcohol and all sorts of excesses had greatly marred them, and their present expression was one of ferocious brutishness. “What’s that you are talking about?” he asked in a harsh, grating voice. “Is it to mock people that you come and ask for money on the 15th of October—rent day? Where have you seen any money left after the landlord has made his round? Besides, what is this bill? Give it me to 

 Prev. P 28/289 next