What did it matter to a dying man--a man whom heaven, impassive, abandoned to the evil powers--who came or who went?
But by-and-by his eyes conveyed the identity of the man to his brain; and he rose to his feet, laying his hands on a bell which stood on the table beside him.

In the act of ringing he changed his mind, and laying the bell down, he strode himself to the outer door, the house door, and opened it.

The man was still in the street.

Scarcely showing himself, Blondel caught his eye, signed to him to enter, and held the door while he did so.
Claude Mercier--for he it was--entered awkwardly.

He followed the Syndic into the parlour, and standing with his cap in his hand, began shamefacedly to explain that he had come to learn how the Syndic was, after--after that which had happened----He did not finish the sentence.
For that matter, Blondel did not allow him to finish.