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lighted by the match, he put up the little case. The young man followed his movements with greedy eyes ; it was evident he would have given a great deal for such a treasure.
    ” Now that we have light, lead on.”
    ” Follow, now, then, sir ; ” and Gilbert advanced, while his companion, taking the horse by the bit, dragged him after.
    The weather was now not so bad ; the rain had ceased, and the thunder was only heard muttering at a distance. The traveler seemed to wish for more conversation.
    ” You know this baron, then, my good fellow ? “
    ” Certainly, sir ; since I have lived in his house from my infancy.”
    ” A relation?”
     
    48 JOSEPH BALSAMO.
    ” No. sir.”
    ” Your guardian ? “
    ” No.”
    ” Your master ? “
    The young man started, and colored with anger at the word master.
    ” I am not a servant, sir,” said he.
    ” Well, but you are surely something or other ?”
    < I am the son of an old tenant of the baron ; my mother nursed Mademoiselle Andre.”
    ” I understand ; being the young lady’s foster-brother for I presume she is young you live at free quarters in the house.”
    “She is sixteen, sir.”
    Now, in the traveler’s last words there was something like two questions, but Gilbert avoided any reply to that which concerned himself. The traveler seemed to observe this, and gave his interrogations another turn.
    ” How did yon happen to be out during such weather ? “
    “I was under a rock near the road.”
    ” What were you doing there ? “
    ” I was reading.”
    ” You were reading ? “
    Yes.”
    ” What were you reading ? “
    ”     “The traveler looked at the young man with surprise.
    ” Did you get that book in the baron’s library ?”
    ” No, sir ; I bought it.”
    “Where at Bar-le-Duc ?”
    ” No, sir ; from a pedler. They roam this way now and then, and bring us some tolerably good books.”
    “Who told you *Le Contrat Social’ was a good book ? ‘
    ” I soon found that out, as I read it.”
    ” Have you read bad books, then, that you know the difference so well ?”
    “Yes.”
     
    JOSEPH BALSAMO. 49
    ” What do you call bad books ?”
    ” Why, ‘ Le Sofa,’ ‘ Tauzal ‘ and ‘ Xeadarne,’ and books of that description.”
    ” But where the deuce did you get such books ?”
    ” In the baron’s library.”
    ” And how does the baron get new novels in this den of his ? “
    ” They are sent to him from Paris.”
    ” So this poor baron spends his money on that sort of trash ? “
    ” No ; they are given him.”
    ” Given him ? By whom ? “
    ” By one of his friends, a great nobleman.”
    ” A great nobleman ? Do you know his name ?”
    ” The Duke de Richelieu,”
    “What, the marshal ?”
    “Yes, the marshal.”
    ” I take it for granted he does not leave such books in Mademoiselle Andre’s way ? “
    “Indeed, sir, he leaves them in everybody’s way.”
    “Is Mademoiselle Aiidree of your opinion,” asked the traveler, with a sly smile, “that they are bad ?”
    ” She does not read them, sir,” replied Gilbert, drily.
    The traveler was silent for a minute this character, a singular mixture of shame and boldness, of good and evil, interested him in spite of himself.
    ” And why did you read those books when you knew they were bad ? “
    ” Because I did not know when I began them.”
    “But you soon found it out ?”
    ” Yes.”
    ” And nevertheless you went on ?”
    “Yes.”
    “But why ?”
    ” They taught me things I did not know before.”
    ” And ‘ Le Contrat Social ‘ ? “
    ” It teaches me things that I have guessed.”
    “How so ? “
    ” Why, that men are brothers that societies in which
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    50 JOSEPH BALSAMO.
    they are serfs or slaves are ill constituted that one day we shall all be equal.”
    ” Oh, ho ! ” said the traveler. There was a short silence.
    ” So, my good fellow,” continued the traveler, in a low voice, “you wish to be