- ceived a blow. He remained silent—so silent that
Fifi was a little scared.
"You should see him dance," she said; and slipping Toto's ballet costume on him, she began to sing in a very lively manner:
Le petit mousse noir.
Toto, evidently thinking that he was meant by the black cabin-boy of whom the song treats, made his stage bow, and began his ballet dancing. And as it went on, Cartouche, in spite of himself, began to laugh. That was Fifi's triumph—and springing up, she, too, began to dance as well as sing.
She was only a half-starved little actress on twenty-five francs the week. She had no friend in the world but Cartouche, who was as poor as she was, but her heart was light, and her fresh young voice caroled merrily in the cold, bare little room. Cartouche sat, looking at her, and trying to frown; but it was in vain. He knew nothing of that newly-formed resolve in Fifi's mind, to have a great many flirtations and then to marry him; and then, a vast, a stupendous sacrifice came into his mind by which he could still get Fifi a cloak.
