The two men, in astonishment, came and stood behind the children, and gazed silently at Marsa.
"And your baby, Madame?" said the Tzigana, looking at the sleeping infant, that still pressed its rosy lips to the mother's breast. "How pretty it is! Will you permit me to offer it its baptismal dress?"
"Its baptismal dress?" repeated the mother.
"Oh, Madame!" ejaculated the father, twisting his cap between his fingers.
"Or a cloak, just as you please," added Marsa.
The poor people on the barge made no reply, but looked at one another in bewilderment.
"Is it a little girl?" asked the Tzigana.
"No, Madame, no," responded the mother. "A boy."
"Come here, jean," said Marsa to the oldest child. "Yes, come here, my little man."
Jean came forward, glancing askance at his mother, as if to know whether he should obey.