"It is impossible for a man to be left in such circumstances any longer." Then, as Celine came back with the loaf and the wine, the three of them tried to make Laveuve more comfortable, raised him on his heap of rags, gave him to eat and to drink, and then left the remainder of the wine and the loaf--a large four-pound loaf--near him, recommending him to wait awhile before he finished the bread, as otherwise he might stifle.
"Monsieur l'Abbe ought to give me his address in case I should have any news to send him," said Madame Theodore when she again found herself at her door.
Pierre had no card with him, and so all three went into the room.

But Salvat was no longer alone there.

He stood talking in a low voice very quickly, and almost mouth to mouth, with a young fellow of twenty.

The latter, who was slim and dark, with a sprouting beard and hair cut in brush fashion, had bright eyes, a straight nose and thin lips set in a pale and slightly freckled face, betokening great intelligence.

With stern and stubborn brow, he stood shivering in his well-worn jacket.
"Monsieur l'Abbe wants to leave me his address for the Philosopher's affair," gently explained Madame Theodore, annoyed to find another there with Salvat.
The two men had glanced at the priest and then looked at one another, each with terrible mien.