In front of the Hotel France they halted, and the bear danced round and
round in a ring, his eyes rolling savagely, his head shaking from side to
side in a bad-tempered way.

Suddenly some one cried out: "It's Vanne Castine! It's Vanne!"

People crowded nearer: there was a flurry of exclamations, and then
Christine took a few steps forward where she could see the man's face,
and as swiftly drew back into the crowd, pale and distraite.

The man watched her until she drew away behind a group, which was
composed of Ferrol, her brother and her sister Sophie. He dropped no
note of his song, and the bear kept jigging on. Children and elders
threw coppers, which he picked up, with a little nod of his head, a
malicious sort of smile on his lips. He kept a vigilant eye on the bear,
however, and his pole was pointed constantly towards it. After about
five minutes of this entertainment he moved along up the road. He spoke
no word to anybody though there were some cries of greeting, but passed
on, still singing the monotonous song, followed by a crowd of children.
Presently he turned a corner, and was lost to sight. For a moment longer
the lullaby floated across the garden and the green fields, then the
cornet and the concertina began again, and Ferrol turned towards
Christine.

He had seen her paleness and her look of consternation, had observed the
sulky, penetrating look of the bear-leader's eye, and he knew that he was
stumbling upon a story. Her eye met his, then swiftly turned away. When
her look came to his face again it was filled with defiant laughter, and
a hot brilliancy showed where the paleness had been.