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He was arrested by the quick arrival of another man, for whom the

rest made way. On seeing him, the miserable creature fell upon

his shoulder, sobbing and crying, and pointing to the fountain,

where some women were stooping over the motionless bundle, and

moving gently about it. They were as silent, however, as the men.

"I know all, I know all," said the last comer. "Be a brave man,

my Gaspard! It is better for the poor little plaything to die so,

than to live. It has died in a moment without pain. Could it have

lived an hour as happily?"

"You are a philosopher, you there," said the Marquis, smiling.

"How do they call you?"

"They call me Defarge."

"Of what trade?"

"Monsieur the Marquis, vendor of wine."

"Pick up that, philosopher and vendor of wine," said the Marquis,

throwing him another gold coin, "and spend it as you will. The

horses there; are they right?"