g
THE  TWO  ORPHANS.
earnings, just at this moment, and she emerged
from the cabaret just in time to see her son sup-
porting a beautiful young girl on his arm.
It was seldom that Mother Frochard allowed
herself to be surprised by any thing she saw; but
in this instance she was astonished. Had i. been
Jacques she would not have wondered; indeed, it
only would have seemed natural. But Pierre !
why the girl must be crazy, was her first thought,
and then with her masculine stride she went up
to them, and peered curiously in Louise's pale and
frightened face.
"Why, what is the matter?" she asked. "What
are you doing tkere, Pierre ? "
But Pierre was too much occupied with his
charge to make any reply, and La Frochard seized
Louise hy the arm with no gentle force, and asked
tn her shrill rasping voice:
"Young woman, did you fall ?"
Harsh and coarse as the voice was, it was a wel-
come sound to Louise, for she knew it was one of
her own sex who had spoken.
She took hold of the hard, dirty hand, and be-
cause it was a woman's touch that met hers, she
could have kissed it.
"Oh, madam," she cried, in an imploring tone,
"Do not leave me, I beg. I entreat you not to
leave me here all alone."
Mother Frochard prided herself upon not being
weak, and she did not deign to answer Louise's
prayer.
But Pierre hastened to reassure her.
"Calm yourself, mademoiselle, there is no dan-
ger now," he s.iid, soothingly, as he gazed upon
ner beautiful face.
" What is it! " asked the old woman, impatiently.
"Have you lost your head?"
And in the last question there was a sneer in the
tones of tlie voice which were growing harder and
harder every moment,
" Yes—yes," answered Louise, hardly knowing
What she said. " I believe I shall go mad. Alas!
madam, a few moments ago my sister was here
with me and they have stolen her away from me."
" Stolen her? " replied Pierre, in tones of the
deepest commiseration, which presented a strik-
ing contrast to his mother's remark.
"Well, you must let your parents know," she
said, coldly, as though having a child stolen were
nothing more than a bit of pleasantry which was
easily rectified.
"Our parents!" exclaimed Louise, sadly, break-
ing once more into tears. "Alas, madam, we are
orphans! "
"You have acquaintances—friends?" said
Pierrre.
" We have only just arrived in Paris, and I know
no one here."
To Pierre this intelligence was sad;  but his
mother seemed to view the matter differently, for
she asked, eagerly:
"No one—no one at all?"
Louise shook her head sadly.
" Were the people who took your sister away,
gentlemen or common  people?" asked Pierre,
with tlie faint hope that he might aid her to find
her sister.
"How can I tell?" asked Louise, mournfully.
"You could see their clothes," said Mother Fro-
chard, impatient at what she believed the stupidity
of the girl.                ,
"Alas, madam, I am blind," said Louise, sadly.
"You are blind!" exclaimed Pierre, pityingly,
as he gazed at her sightless eyes.
Mother Frochard looked at the young girl much
as one would look at some newly discovered treas-
ure, and she saw in a moment many ways of turn-
ing her prize to account.
_ " Ah, ha! '; she thought. " Blind, without rela-
tions, friends, or acquaintances in Paris; and
young and pretty."
" It is true," said the cripple, as he finished his
examination of the poor girl's eyes, and turned
sadly away.
" So young and pretty, too," he said, half to him-
self, wiping away a tear, that, despite all his
efforts, would make its appearance.
"Go! leave me alone with her," said the old
woman.   "I'll take care of her."
But Mother Frochard's promise to " take care "
of tiie poor girl meant a great deal more than the
words conveyed. Her care was something to be
shunned, and God have mercy on the unfortunate
whom tne old woman should take under her pro-
tecting care.
"Yes, mother," said Pierre, signifying his readi-
ness to obey his mother's commands, " we must
help her to find her sister."
" That's all right! " exclaimed the old woman, in
a voice which she meant should be kind and
motherly; but at the same time darting a furious
look at Pierre, who still lingered. " 1 know what
to do."
Pierre stood gazing at the blind girl, who still
retained her hold of the old woman's arm, and it
seemed as if he was unable to leave her charmed
presence.                                 y-
"You get out! " exclaimed the old woman sud-
denly, in a fierce whisper, as she unloosed the
girl's grasp, and went toward the cripple.
Fearing lest she was about to be deprived of
ner protectress,  Louise said, as she vainly en-
deavored to touch her arm again:
"You will not leave me, madaml*
" Never  fear, my dear, I  am here,"  replied
Mother Frochard, cheeringly.                                I
Pierre went slowly toward his wheel, and rais-
ing it on his back, started to go. He could not re-
sist a last glance at the young girl.
"Blind!" he exclaimed, as he gazed upon her
slight form. "So young and so pretty." Then,
as he thought of his own defprmity, a bitter smile
passed over his face, which in its bitterness was
painful, because of tlie misery which it served to
portray, and he added:
" Pretty ! what is that to you, miserable cripple! "
And as if he had convinced himself that he must
not think of beauty, or any thing but his own
wretchedness, he walked wearily away, while his
cry of " Knives to grind ! " was doubly pathetic in
the intensity of the despair that seemed to come
with it.
" Come—come, my pretty child, don't be down-
cast," said Mother Frochard, as she laid her hand
on the blind girl's shoulder, and took mental note
of the clothing wliich the poor girl wore.
" Alas ! to whom shall I go for help? " asked
Louise, sadly.
"To me," said La Frochard, throwing all the
dignity and maternal tone possible into her words.
"I am an honest woman, and mother of a family.
I will give you a home until you find your sister."
" Ah, madam, you are very good to have pity
on me,"said Louise, thankfully. "But we will
find my sister, will we not?"
" Oh, yes, certainly, in time," said theold woman,
thinking that she would take plenty of time to do
it—"come, then, come along with me."
Louise, without a fear of what she was to suffer
through the old woman's fiendishness, said, con-
fidingly :
" I trust myself to you, madam."
" You couldn't do better, foryou have fallen into
good hands."
And the old woman led the blind girl to her vile
den, and the sister, who had been stolen, was still
in the hands of her abductors.}
Chapter VL—The Home oe the Frochabds.
Mother Frochard led Louise along the streets in
a careful manner, although, had the poor girl not
been so engrossed with the thoughts of the loss
she had just sustained, she would have noticed
that although they walked in a leisurely manner
through those streets that were evidently deserted,
the old woman quickened her pace very percept-
ibly whenever they approached any traveler.
For some moments neither La Frochard nor
Louise spoke. The one was thinking of the prize
she had found, and of the best means of making
her serve her purpose, while the other was think-
ing of the sister she had lost.
Now it was not Mother Frochard's custom to
walk through the streets in this quiet manner; for
she was a professional beggar, and her monoton-
ous, nasal cry of "Charity, good people. Charity
for a poor old woman," was well known in the
quarters which she frequented. But on this occa-
sion she did not wish to let Louise know what her
business was, and again she did not wish to attract
attention, as she feared it might excite suspicion
if she was observed witli the neatly dressed, inno-
cent-looking country girl.
"Have you always been blind, my dear?" she
asked, in what was intended to be a kind, motherly
voice.
"Oh, no, madam," replied Louise. "I have only
been blind two years."                        •
" Two years ! " replied La Frochard; " and what
caused you to lose your sight? "
"Iwas very sick with a fever, and something
seemed to grow over my eyes," replied Louise,
sadly, as she thought of the time when she was
thus shut out from the world and imprisoned, as
it were, within herself.
"I don't suppose there is any chance of your
ever being cured, is there? " asked the old woman,
with a view of finding out whether there was any
chance of the girl's being able to leave her moth-
erly care.
" Henriette thinks that I may be cured; there are
so many skillful physicians in this great city," an-
swered Louise, with the tears filling her eyes again
as she was thus so vividly reminded of her sister,
"She sold all we possessed to raise money enough
to pay tlie doctors."
"So you had property, then? "
"A very little, madam. When our dear parents
died they left us the little cottage in which we
lived.   But how much farther have we to go? "
And Louise's voice, as she asked the question,
told plainly how weary she was.
" Only a few steps, dear. We are poor people
and can not live in fine houses, so we have a little
house by the river. But courage," said the old
woman, patting her on the shoulder. " We shall
soon be there."
Wearily tiie blind girl followed her guida She
was entirely worn out by tlie excitement and fa-
tigues of the day, and any shelter, however humble
or poor, would have been gladly welcomed by her.
" We shall find my sister in the morning, shall
wo not, madam? " asked Louise, for the second
time.
" It may take some days," replied Mother Fro-
chard, evasively. "You must try not to think of her
to-night."
A prayer went up from the poor girl's heart that
her sister might be speedily restored to her, and
she silently followed Uie old woman.
After they had walked, as it seemed to Louise,
many miles, Mother Frochard stopped before a
house which, from the outside appearance, had
formerly been a boat-house. It was in the last
stages of decay, and the whole surroundings
seemed a fit abode of crime.
"Here we are, dear; here we are at last ! " said
the old woman, as she led Louise through a long,
dark passage, and then down several damp, moul-
dy steps, and left her standing in a small entry,
reeking with noisome odors, while she fumbled in
her capacious pockets for the key.
The door was opened at last, and the two entered
a large square room the furniture of which was of
the rudest description. Two large, barn-like doers
which opened on the water front, and wliich were
barred with heavy wooden bars, showed that at
somo very remote time the building had been usrd
as its outside appearance indicated for a boat-
house.
A flight of steps led from the center of the
room to what was probably the garret; but several
straw beds in one corner of the room showed
that the lower floor was the only portion of the
house which was used.
Louise shuddered as she entered the damp, dis-
agreeable-smelling room; but her feelings would
iiave been much worse could she have seen the
vile place, and the gleam of triumph which shone
in the old woman's eyes as she saw that she had
her prize securely caged.
" Sit down here," said La Frochard," and I will
get you something to eat."
And the old woman led Louise to a chair, where,
by placing her hands on her shoulders, she forced
her to be seated.
" I do not care to eat, madam," said Louise, pit-
eously. " If you will allow me to go to my roo.i,
I will retire."
" Go to your room ! " cried Mother Frochard in
a hard, shrill voice, from wliich all the assumed
tenderness had fled. " Do you think we keep a»
inn?»
And the old wretch stood, with her hands on her
hips, before the poor girl, who shrank from before
the mocking words as from a blow.
"I—did—not know, madam," she faltered; " I
was very weary, and wanted to retire."
" Well, if you want to go to sleep, you can do
that over here," and the old woman led her to-
ward the beds in the corner. " These are good
enough for my handsome Jacques, and I guess
they will do for you, my fine lady."
"Any thing will do for me, madam," said
Louise, in a conciliatory tone. " I did not know
you were so poor; but Henriette will pay you to-
morrow when we find her."
And with a sigh of thankfulness for the resting
place, poor and wretched as it was, Louise sank
upon one of the dirty straw beds, dressed as she
was, and after having uttered her child-like
prayer, sank into a profound slumber.
" Yes, your sister will pay me for my trouble af-
ter we have found lier, my tine iady," muttered
Frochard, as she seated herself by the side of a
rude table, and from some one of its drawers pro-
duced a bottle of brandy.
Several copious draughts had the effect of
changing the old woman completely, and she
muttered to herself while she cast threatening
glances at the young girl, who, calmly sleeping,
was all unconscious of the danger which sur-
rounded her.
In about half an hour after La Frochard and
Louise entered the house, and while the old wo-
man was still communing with the brandy bottle,
a loud bustle was heard in the passage just out-
side the door.
Mother Frochard listened intently, and gazed to-
ward the bed, as if to see whether the noise would
awake the girl, until several loud curses in a well-
known voice caused a complacent smile to ap-
pear upon her face, and she leaned back in her
chair, saying:
" It's Jacques, my handsome Jacques."
At the same moment, with a drunken swagger,
Jacques entered the room.   '
" Well, my boy, what luck?" asked his mother,
as she gazed admiringly upon him.
" The worst ol luck," answered Jacques, sullen-
ly, as he seated himself upon a low .stool, and be-
gan filling his pipe. "Marianne has deceived me."
" Deceived you ! Oh, the wretch ! " exclaimed
the old woman, in a tone that told plainly what
Marianne might expect if she should get her in her
grasp once.   " But now did she deceive you?"
" She gave herself up to the euard.   I told her
to find a purse, and after she iiad done it, she
gave herself up to get away from ine, so she said."
Just then Louise made a movement in her sleep
which attracied Jacques's attention.
" Hallo ! What have you got here? " he asked,
as he went toward the bed.
Mother Frochard related the story of how she
found Louise, and when she had concluded,
Jacques gave vent to his satisfaction in a prolonged
whistle.
" What do you mean to do with her? " he asked,
at lengtn, still gazing upon the beautiful face of
the sleeping girl.
" She shall go out with me and sing; the mon-
ey will come in fast enough then, I'll warrant,"
replied tlie old  woman,  betaking herself once-
more to her bottle.
" Hallo ! it's full again, is it? " said Jacques, â&
; he reached over, and taking the bottle from hi»