At that moment, James, who had remained at the other end of the room, and who perceived that we were speaking low, got up softly, and with a delicate discretion, said to his wife,

“We will go away without making any noise.”

“Are you going, James?”

“I am in the way, my dear Mr. Desgranges.”

“No, pray stay longer.”

His benefactor retained him, reaching out to him cordially his hand.  The blind man seized the hand in his turn, and pressed it warmly against his heart.

“My dear friend, my dear good friend, you permit me to stay a little longer.  How glad I am to find myself near you.  When I am sad I say—­’James, the good God will, perhaps, of His mercy, put you in the same paradise with Mr. Desgranges,’ and that does me good.”

The young man smiled at this simple tenderness, which believed in a hierarchy in Heaven.  James heard him.

“You smile, sir.  But this good man has re-created James.  I dream of it every night—­I have never seen him, but I shall know him then.  Oh my God, if I recover my sight I will look at him for ever—­for ever, like the light, till he shall say to me, James, go away.  But he will not say so, he is too good.  If I had known him four years ago, I would have served him, and never have left him.”

“James, James!” said Mr. Desgranges; but the poor man could not be silenced.

“It is enough to know he is in the village; this makes my heart easy.  I do not always wish to come in, but I pass before his house, it is always there; and when he is gone a journey I make Juliana lead me into the plain of Noiesemont, and I say—­’turn me towards the place where he is gone, that I may breathe the same air with him.’”

Mr. Desgranges put his hand before his mouth.  James stopped.

“You are right, Mr. Desgranges, my mouth is rude, it is only my heart which is right.  Come, wife,” said he, gayly, and drying his great tears which rolled from his eyes, “Come, we must give our children their supper.  Good-by, my dear friend, good-by, sir.”

He went away, moving his staff before him.  Just as he laid his hand upon the door, Mr. Desgranges called him back.

“I want to tell you a piece of news which will give you pleasure.  I was going to leave the village this year; but I have just taken a new lease of five years of my landlady.”

“Do you see, Juliana,” said James to his wife, turning round, “I was right when I said he was going away.”

“How,” replied Mr. Desgranges, “I had told them not to tell you of it.”

“Yes; but here,” putting his hand on his heart, “everything is plain here.  I heard about a month since, some little words, which had begun to make my head turn round; when, last Sunday, your landlady called me to her, and showed me more kindness than usual, promising me that she would take care of me, and that she would never abandon me.  When I came home, I said to Juliana, ’Wife, Mr. Desgranges is going to quit the village; but that lady has consoled me.’”