up steadily, and looked the Marquis in the face. It

was not for his dignity to notice it; his contemptuous eyes passed

over her, and over all the other rats; and he leaned back in his seat

again, and gave the word, “Go on!”

He was driven on, and other carriages came whirling by in

quick succession; the Minister, the State-Projector, the Farmer-

General, the Doctor, the Lawyer, the Ecclesiastic, the Grand

Opera, the Comedy, the whole Fancy Ball in a bright continuous

flow, came whirling by. The rats had crept out of their holes to

look on, and they remained looking on for hours; soldiers and

police often passing between them and the spectacle, and making

a barrier behind which they slunk, and through which they

peeped. The father had long ago taken up his bundle and hidden

himself away with it, when the women who had tended the bundle

while it lay on the base of the fountain, sat there watching the

running of the water and the rolling of the Fancy Ballwhen the

one woman who had stood conspicuous, knitting, still knitted on

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with the steadiness of Fate. The water of the fountain ran, the

swift river ran, the day ran into evening, so much life in the city

ran into death according to rule, time and tide waited for no man,

the rats were sleeping close together in their dark holes again, the

Fancy