"Would you like to take any refreshment, madame?" interrupted his wife.
"We have some excellent soup," continued the husband.
"The cold has perhaps affected you, madame," resumed the young woman; "pray, step in, and sit and warm yourself by our fire."
"We may be Republicans," observed the pastry-cook; "but the devil is not always so black as he is painted."
Encouraged by the kind words addressed to her by the shop-keepers, the old lady confessed that she had been followed by a strange man, and that she was afraid to return home by herself.
"Is that all?" replied the valiant pastry-cook. "I'll be ready to go home with you in a minute, citizen."
He gave the louis d'or to his wife, and then—animated by that sort of gratitude which all tradesmen feel at receiving a large price for an article of little value—hastened to put on his National Guard's uniform, and soon appeared in complete military array. In the mean while, however, his wife had found time to reflect; and in her case, as in many others, reflection closed the open hand of charity. Apprehensive that her husband might be mixed up in some misadventure, she tried hard to detain him; but, strong in his benevolent impulse, the honest fellow persisted in offering himself as the old lady's escort.
"Do you imagine, madame, that the man you are so much afraid of, is still waiting outside the shop?" asked the young woman.
"I feel certain of it," replied the lady.
"Suppose he should be a spy! Suppose the whole affair should be a conspiracy! Don't go! Get back the box we gave her." These words whispered to the pastry-cook by his wife, had the effect of cooling his courage with extraordinary rapidity.