and was sighing as he examined a plant of cochlearia des Guillons,
which the basket had broken as it fell across the bed. He rose up
at Madame Magloire's cry.

"Monseigneur, the man is gone! The silver has been stolen!"

As she uttered this exclamation, her eyes fell upon a corner of
the garden, where traces of the wall having been scaled were visible.
The coping of the wall had been torn away.

"Stay! yonder is the way he went. He jumped over into
Cochefilet Lane. Ah, the abomination! He has stolen our silver!"

The Bishop remained silent for a moment; then he raised his grave eyes,
and said gently to Madame Magloire:--

"And, in the first place, was that silver ours?"

Madame Magloire was speechless. Another silence ensued; then the
Bishop went on:--

"Madame Magloire, I have for a long time detained that silver wrongfully.
It belonged to the poor. Who was that man? A poor man, evidently."

"Alas! Jesus!" returned Madame Magloire. "It is not for my sake,
nor for Mademoiselle's. It makes no difference to us. But it is
for the sake of Monseigneur. What is Monseigneur to eat with now?"

The Bishop gazed at her with an air of amazement.