Here the mason was interrupted by some of the voices rising above the others.
“We cannot leave him in the street,” said some.
“The child-stealers would carry him off,” continued others.
“We must take him to the overseer.”
“Or to the police-office.”
“That’s the thing. Come, little one!”
But the child, frightened by these suggestions of danger, and at the names of police and overseer, cried louder, and drew back toward the parapet. In vain they tried to persuade him; his fears made him resist the more, and the most eager began to get weary, when the voice of a little boy was heard through the confusion.
“I know him well—I do,” said he, looking at the lost child; “he belongs in our part of the town.”
“What part is it?”
“Yonder, on the other side of the Boulevards—Rue des Magasins.”