By that time the moon had risen; but, naturally, few were abroad
so late, and such as were to be seen belonged to a class among
whom even Henry did not care to seek adventures. Our
astonishment was great therefore when, half-way down the street--
a street of tall, mean houses neither better nor much worse than
others in that quarter--we saw, standing in the moonlight at an
open door, a boy about seven years old.
The King saw him first, and, pressing my arm, stood still. On
the instant the child, who had probably seen us before we saw
him, advanced into the road to us. "Messieurs," he said,
standing up boldly before us and looking at us without fear, "my
father is ill, and I cannot close the shutter."
The boy's manner, full of self-possession, and his tone,
remarkable at his age, took us so completely by surprise--to say
nothing of the late hour and the deserted street, which gave
these things their full effect--that for a moment neither of us
answered. Then the King spoke. "Indeed, M. l'Empereur," he said
gravely; "and where is the shutter?"
The boy pointed to an open shutter at the top of the house behind
him.
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