CHAPTER XXX.

  THE EFFECT OF HAPPY NEWS.

  Pitou had to tell his intended marriage to Mayor Longpre, who livedhard by. Less set against the Billet family than Aunt 'Gelique, hecongratulated Pitou on the match.

  Pitou listened to his praise without seeing where he was doing verymuch of a noble action.

  By the way, as a pure Republican, Pitou was delighted to find thatthe Republic had done away with the publication of the banns and otherecclesiastical trammels which had always galled true lovers.

  It was, therefore, settled between the mayor and the suitor that thewedding should take place on the following Saturday, at the town hall.

  Next day, Sunday, the sale of the Charny estate and the Billet farm wasto come off. The latter, at the upset price of four hundred thousandand the other at six hundred thousand in paper money; assignats weredropping fearfully; the gold louis was worth nine hundred and twentyfrancs in paper.

  But, then, nobody ever saw a gold piece nowadays.

  Pitou had run all the way back to acquaint Catherine with the goodnews. He had ventured to anticipate the marriage-day by forty-eighthours, and he was afraid he should vex Catherine.

  She did not appear vexed, and he was lifted up among the angels--hisnamesakes.

  But she insisted on his going once more to Aunt Angelique's, toannounce the exact date of the wedding-day and invite her to be at theceremony. She was the bridegroom's sole relative, and though not at alltender toward him, he ought to do the proper thing on his side.

  The consequence was that on Thursday morning, Pitou went over toVillers Cotterets to repeat the visit.

  Nine o'clock was striking as he got in sight of the house.

  The aunt was not on the door-step, but the door was closed any way, asif she expected his call.

  He thought that she had stepped out, and he was delighted.

  He would have paid the visit, and a polite note with a piece ofwedding-cake after the ceremony would acquit the debt to courtesy.

  Still, as he was a conscientious fellow, he went up to the door andknocked; as no answer came to his raps, he called.

  At the double appeal of knuckle and voice, a neighbor appeared at herown door.

  "Do you know whether or no my aunt has gone out, eh, Mother Fagot?"asked Pitou.

  "Has she not answered?" asked Dame Fagot.

  "No; she has not, as you see; so I guess she has gone out for a gossip."

  Mother Fagot shook her head.

  "I should have seen her go out," she said; "my door opens the sameway as hers, and it is pretty seldom that in getting up of a morningshe does not drop into our house to get some warm ashes to put in hershoes, with which the poor dear lamb keeps her toes warm all the day.Ain't that so, Neighbor Farolet?"

  This question was addressed to a fresh character, who likewise openinghis door, shoved his conversational oar into the parley.

  "What are you talking about, Madame Fagot?"

  "I was a-saying that Aunt Angelique had not gone out. Have you seenanything of her?"

  "That I hain't, and I am open to wager that she has not gone out,otherwise her shutters would not be open, d'ye see."

  "By all that is blue, that is true enough," remarked Pitou. "Heavens, Ihope nothing unfortunate has happened to my poor aunt."

  "I should not wonder," said Mother Fagot.

  "It is more than possible, it is probable," said Farolet, sententiously.

  "To tell the truth, she was not over-tender to me," went on Pitou; "butI do not want harm to befall her for all that. How are we going to findout the state of things?"

  "That is not a puzzle," suggested a third neighbor, joining in; "sendfor Rigolot, the locksmith."

  "If it is to open the door, he is not wanted," said Pitou; "I know alittle trick of prying the bolt with a knife."

  "Well, go ahead, my lad," said Farolet; "we are all witnesses that youpicked the lock with the best intentions and your pocket-knife."

  Pitou had taken out his knife, and in the presence of a dozen persons,attracted by the occurrence, he slipped back the bolt with a dexterityproving that he had used this means of opening the way more than oncein his youth.

  The door was open, but the interior was plunged into complete darkness.As the daylight gradually penetrated and was diffused, they coulddescry the form of the old girl on her bed.

  Pitou called her by name twice. But she remained motionless and withoutresponse. He went in and up to the couch.

  "Halloo!" he exclaimed, touching the hands; "she is cold and stark."

  They opened the windows. Aunt Angelique was dead.

  "What a misfortune!" said Pitou.

  "Tush," said Farolet; "a hard winter is coming, and wood never so dear.She saves by departing where the firing is plentiful. Besides, youraunt did not dote on you."

  "Maybe so," said Pitou, with tears as big as walnuts, "but I liked herpretty well. Oh, my poor auntie!" said the big baby, falling on hisknees by the bed.

  "I say, Captain Pitou," said Mme. Fagot, "if you want anything, justlet us know. If we ain't good neighbors, we ain't good for anything."

  "Thank you, mother. Is that boy of yours handy?"

  "Yes. Hey, Fagotin!" called the good woman.

  A boy of fourteen stood frightened at the door.

  "Here I am, mother," he said.

  "Just bid him trot over to Haramont to tell Catherine not to be uneasyabout me, as I have found my Aunt 'Gelique dead. Poor aunt!" He wipedaway fresh tears. "That is what is keeping me here."

  "You hear that, Fagotin? Then off you go."

  "Go through Soissons Street," said the wise Farolet, "and notifyCitizen Raynal that there is a case of sudden death to record at oldMiss Pitou's."

  The boy darted off on his double errand.

  The crowd had kept increasing till there were a hundred before thedoor. Each had his own opinion on the cause of the decease, and allwhispered among themselves.

  "If Pitou is no fool, he will find some hoard smuggled away in an oldsock, or in a crock, or in a hole in the chimney."

  Dr. Raynal arrived in the midst of this, preceded by the headtax-gatherer.

  The doctor went up to the bed, examined the corpse, and declared to theamaze of the lookers-on that the death was due to cold and starvation.This redoubled Pitou's tears.

  "Oh, poor aunt!" he wailed, "and I thought she was so rich. I am avillain for having left her to poverty. Oh, had I only known this! Itcan not be, Doctor Raynal!"

  "Look into the hutch and see if there is any bread; in the wood-boxand see if there is any fire-wood. I have always foretold that the oldmiser would end in this way."

  Searching, they found not a crumb or a splinter.

  "Oh, why did she not tell me this?" mourned Pitou. "I would havechopped up some wood for her and done some poaching to fill the larder.It is your fault, too," the poor fellow added, accusing the crowd; "youought to have told me that she was in want."

  "We did not tell you that she was in want," returned wiseacre Farolet,"for the plain reason that everybody believed that she was rolling inriches."

  Dr. Raynal had thrown the sheet over the cold face, and proceeded tothe door, when Pitou intercepted him.

  "Are you going, doctor?"

  "Why, what more do you expect me to do here?"

  "Then she is undoubtedly dead? Dear me, to die of cold and hunger, too!"

  Raynal beckoned him.

  "Boy, I am of the opinion that you should none the less seek high andlow," he said.

  "But, doctor, after your saying she died of want--"

  "Misers have been known to die the same way, lying on their treasures.Hush!" he said, laying a finger on his lips, and going out-doors.