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The sound of the key turning in the lock caused him to turn his head.
The door turned on its hinges, the steps were let down. Ursus was
returning. He ascended the steps, his extinguished lantern in his hand.
At the same time the pattering of four paws fell upon the steps. It was
Homo, following Ursus, who had also returned to his home.
The boy awoke with somewhat of a start. The wolf, having probably an
appetite, gave him a morning yawn, showing two rows of very white teeth.
He stopped when he had got halfway up the steps, and placed both
forepaws within the caravan, leaning on the threshold, like a preacher
with his elbows on the edge of the pulpit. He sniffed the chest from
afar, not being in the habit of finding it occupied as it then was. His
wolfine form, framed by the doorway, was designed in black against the
light of morning. He made up his mind, and entered. The boy, seeing the
wolf in the caravan, got out of the bear-skin, and, standing up, placed
himself in front of the little infant, who was sleeping more soundly
than ever.
Ursus had just hung the lantern up on a nail in the ceiling. Silently,
and with mechanical deliberation, he unbuckled the belt in which was his
case, and replaced it on the shelf. He looked at nothing, and seemed to
see nothing. His eyes were glassy. Something was moving him deeply in
his mind. His thoughts at length found breath, as usual, in a rapid
outflow of words. He exclaimed,--
"
Happy, doubtless! Dead! stone dead!"
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