that of the body, which he had so lately undergone. The robber looked at him with a hard disdain.
"What have I ever done to thee, wretch?" cried the old man — "what but loved and cherished thee? Thou wert an orphan — an outcast. I nurtured, nursed, adopted thee as my son. If men call me a miser, it was but that none might despise thee, my heir, because nature has stunted and deformed thee, when I was no more. Thou wouldst have had all when I was dead. Couldst thou not spare me a few months or days — nothing to thy youth, all that is left to my age? What have I done to thee?"
"Thou hast continued to live, and thou wouldst make no will."
"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!"
"Ton Dieu! Thy God! Fool! Hast thou not told me, from my childhood, that there is no God? Hast thou not fed me on philosophy? Hast thou not said, 'Be virtuous, be good, be just, for the sake of mankind: but there is no life after this life'? Mankind! why should I love mankind? Hideous and misshapen, mankind jeer at me as I pass the streets. What hast thou done to me? Thou hast taken away from me, who am the scoff of this world, the hopes of another! Is there no other life? Well, then, I want thy gold, that at least I may hasten to make the best of this!"
"Monster! Curses light on thy ingratitude, thy'
" And who hears thy curses? Thou knowest there
