"Perhaps madame might like to take something," the wife broke in.
"We have some very nice broth," added the pastry-cook.
"And it is so cold," continued his wife; "perhaps you have caught a chill, madame, on your way here. But you can rest and warm yourself a bit."
"We are not so black as the devil!" cried the man.
The kindly intention in the words and tones of the charitable couple won the old lady's confidence. She said that a strange man had been following her, and she was afraid to go home alone.
"Is that all!" returned he of the red bonnet; "wait for me, citoyenne."
He handed the gold coin to his wife, and then went out to put on his National Guard's uniform, impelled thereto by the idea of making some adequate return for the money; an idea that sometimes slips into a tradesman's head when he has been prodigiously overpaid for goods of no great value. He took up his cap, buckled on his sabre, and came out in full dress. But his wife had had time to reflect, and reflection, as not unfrequently happens, closed the hand that kindly intentions had opened. Feeling frightened and uneasy lest her husband might be drawn into something unpleasant, she tried to catch at the skirt of his coat, to hold him back, but he, good soul, obeying his charitable first thought, brought out his offer to see the lady home, before his wife could stop him.
"The man of whom the citoyenne is afraid is still prowling about the shop, it seems," she said sharply.
"I am afraid so," said the lady innocently.
"How if it is a spy?... a plot?... Don't go. And take the box away from her——"