Caught In The Net | Page 5

eyes
gleamed with the fire of savage resolution. Her nature was one of those
cruel and energetic ones, which lead a woman to hurl a man from the
brink of the abyss to which she had conducted him, and to forget him
before he has ever reached the bottom.
This torrent of sarcasm brought out Paul's real nature. His face flushed,
and rage began to gain the mastery over him. "Can you not work?" he
asked. "Why do you not do something instead of talking so much?"
"That is not at all the same thing," answered she coolly. "I was not
made for work."
Paul made a threatening gesture. "You wretch!" exclaimed he.
"You are wrong," she replied. "I am not a wretch; I am simply hungry."

There seemed every prospect of an angry scene, when a slight sound
attracted the attention of the disputants, and, turning round, they saw an
old man standing upon the threshold of their open door. He was tall,
but stooped a good deal. He had high, thick brows, and a red nose; a
long, thick, grizzly beard covered the rest of his countenance. He wore
a pair of spectacles with colored glasses, which, to a great extent,
concealed the expression of his face. His whole attire indicated extreme
poverty. He wore a greasy coat, much frayed and torn at the pockets,
and which had carried away with it marks of all the walls against which
it had been rubbed when he had indulged a little too freely in the
cheerful glass. He seemed to belong to that class who consider it a
work of supererogation to disrobe before going to bed, and who just
turn in on such spot as the fancy of the moment may dictate. Paul and
Rose both recognized the old man from having continually met him
when ascending or descending the staircase, and knew that he rented
the back attic, and was called Daddy Tantaine. In an instant the idea
flashed across Paul's mind that the dilapidated state of the partition
permitted every word spoken in one attic to be overheard in the other,
and this did not tend to soothe his exasperated feelings.
"What do you want here, sir?" asked he angrily. "And, pray, who gave
you permission to enter my room without leave?"
The old man did not seem at all put out by the threatening language of
his questioner. "I should be telling a fib," answered he calmly, "if I
were to tell you that, being in my own room and hearing you
quarrelling, I did not hear every word of what you have been saying."
"Sir!"
"Stop a bit, and don't be in such a hurry, my young friend. You seem
disposed to quarrel, and, on my faith, I am not surprised; for when there
is no corn in the manger, the best tempered horse will bite and kick."
He uttered these words in the most soothing accents, and appeared
utterly unconscious of having committed any breach of etiquette in
entering the room.

"Well, sir," said Paul, a flush of shame passing across his face, "you see
now how poverty can drag a man down. Are you satisfied?"
"Come, come, my young friend," answered Daddy Tantaine, "you
should not get angry; and if I did step in without any notice, it was
because, as a neighbor, I find I might venture on such a liberty; for
when I heard how embarrassed you were, I said to myself, 'Tantaine,
perhaps you can help this pretty pair out of the scrape they have got
into.' "
The promise of assistance from a person who had not certainly the
outward appearance of a capitalist seemed so ludicrous to Rose that she
could not restrain a smile, for she fancied that if their old neighbor was
to present them with half his fortune, it might possibly amount to
twenty centimes or thereabouts.
Paul had formed a somewhat similar idea, but he was a little touched by
this act of friendliness on the part of a man who doubtless knew that
money lent under similar circumstances was but seldom returned.
"Ah, sir!" said he, and this time he spoke in softer accents, "what can
you possibly do for us?"
"Who can say?"
"You can see how hard we are pushed. We are in want of almost
everything. Have we not reached the /acme/ of misery?"
The old man raised his hand to heaven, as if to seek for aid from above.
"You have indeed come to a terrible pass," murmured he; "but all is not
yet lost. The pearl which lies in the depths of the ocean is not lost for
ever; for may not some skillful diver bring it to the surface? A
fisherman may not be able to do much with