the crowd indifferently from a distance.

When he reached Asnieres, after a walk of two or three hours, it was like
an awakening. The sun, rising in all its glory, set field and river on
fire. The bridge, the houses, the quay, all stood forth with that
matutinal sharpness of outline which gives the impression of a new day
emerging, luminous and smiling, from the dense mists of the night. From
a distance he descried his brother's house, already awake, the open
blinds and the flowers on the window-sills. He wandered about some time
before he could summon courage to enter.

Suddenly some one hailed him from the shore:

"Ah! Monsieur Frantz. How early you are today!"

It was Sidonie's coachman taking his horses to bathe in the river.

"Has anything happened at the house?" inquired Frantz tremblingly.

"No, Monsieur Frantz."

"Is my brother at home?"

"No, Monsieur slept at the factory."

"No one sick?"

"No, Monsieur Frantz, no one, so far as I know."

Thereupon Frantz made up his mind to ring at the small gate. The