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braid and footmenin silken hose； drove up。 The people who alighted from them were allrichly…dressed ladies。 They went through the opened gate； and ascendedthe broad staircase that led to a building resting on marblepillars。 Was this building； perhaps； the wonder of the world？ ThereMary would certainly be found。
〃Sancta Maria！〃 resounded from the interior。 Incense floatedthrough the lofty painted and gilded aisles； where a solemn twilightreigned。
It was the Church of the Madeleine。
Clad in black garments of the most costly stuffs； fashionedaccording to the latest mode； the rich feminine world of Parisglided across the shining pavement。 The crests of the proprietors wereengraved on silver shields on the velvet…bound prayer…books； andembroidered in the corners of perfumed handkerchiefs bordered withBrussels lace。 A few of the ladies were kneeling in silent prayerbefore the altars； others resorted to the confessionals。
Anxiety and fear took possession of the Dryad； she felt as ifshe had entered a place where she had no right to be。 Here was theabode of silence； the hall of secrets。 Everything was said inwhispers； every word was a mystery。
The Dryad saw herself enveloped in lace and silk； like the womenof wealth and of high birth around her。 Had； perhaps； every one ofthem a longing in her breast； like the Dryad？
A deep； painful sigh was heard。 Did it escape from someconfessional in a distant corner； or from the bosom of the Dryad？She drew the veil closer around her； she breathed incense； and not thefresh air。 Here was not the abiding…place of her longing。
Away！ away… a hastening without rest。 The ephemeral fly knowsnot repose； for her existence is flight。
She was out again among the gas candelabra； by a magnificentfountain。
〃All its streaming waters are not able to wash out the innocentblood that was spilt here。〃
Such were the words spoken。 Strangers stood around； carrying ona lively conversation； such as no one would have dared to carry onin the gorgeous hall of secrets whence the Dryad came。
A heavy stone slab was turned and then lifted。 She did notunderstand why。 She saw an opening that led into the depths below。 Thestrangers stepped down； leaving the starlit air and the cheerfullife of the upper world behind them。
〃I am afraid；〃 said one of the women who stood around； to herhusband； 〃I cannot venture to go down； nor do I care for the wondersdown yonder。 You had better stay here with me。〃
〃Indeed； and travel home；〃 said the man； 〃and quit Paris withouthaving seen the most wonderful thing of all… the real wonder of thepresent period； created by the power and resolution of one man！〃
〃I will not go down for all that；〃 was the reply。
〃The wonder of the present time；〃 it had been called。 The Dryadhad heard and had understood it。 The goal of her ardent longing hadthus been reached； and here was the entrance to it。 Down into thedepths below Paris？ She had not thought of such a thing； but now sheheard it said； and saw the strangers descending； and went after them。
The staircase was of cast iron； spiral； broad and easy。 Belowthere burned a lamp； and farther down； another。 They stood in alabyrinth of endless halls and arched passages； all municating witheach other。 All the streets and lanes of Paris were to be seen hereagain； as in a dim reflection。 The names were painted up； and every；house above had its number down here also； and struck its rootsunder the macadamized quays of a broad canal； in which the muddy waterflowed onward。 Over it the fresh streaming water was carried onarches； and quite at the top hung the tangled of gas…pipes andtelegraph…wires。
In the distance lamps gleamed； like a reflection from theworld…city above。 Every now and then a dull rumbling was heard。 Thiscame from the heavy wagons rolling over the entrance bridges。
Whither had the Dryad e？
You have； no doubt； heard of the CATABS？ Now they are vanishingpoints in that new underground world… that wonder of the presentday… the sewers of Paris。 The Dryad was there； and not in theworld's Exhibition in the Champ de Mars。
She heard exclamations of wonder and admiration。
〃From here go forth health and life for thousands upon thousandsup yonder！ Our time is the time of progress； with its manifoldblessings。〃
Such was the opinion and the speech of men； but not of thosecreatures who had been born here； and who built and dwelt here… of therats； namely； who were squeaking to one another in the clefts of acrumbling wall； quite plainly； and in a way the Dryad understood well。
A big old Father…Rat； with his tail bitten off； was relievinghis feelings in loud squeaks； and his family gave their tribute ofconcurrence to every word he said：
〃I am disgusted with this man…mewing；〃 he cried… 〃with theseoutbursts of ignorance。 A fine magnificence； truly！ all made up of gasand petroleum！ I can't eat such stuff as that。 Everything here is sofine and bright now； that one's ashamed of one's self； without exactlyknowing why。 Ah； if we only lived in the days of tallow candles！ andit does not lie so very far behind us。 That was a romantic time； asone may say。〃
〃What are you talking of there？〃 asked the Dryad。 〃I have neverseen you before。 What is it you are talking about？〃
〃Of the glorious days that are gone；〃 said the Rat… 〃of thehappy time of our great…grandfathers and great…grandmothers。 Then itwas a great thing to get down here。 That was a rat's nest quitedifferent from Paris。 Mother Plague used to live here then； she killedpeople； but never rats。 Robbers and smugglers could breathe freelyhere。 Here was the meeting…place of the most interesting personages；whom one now only gets to see in the theatres where they actmelodrama； up above。 The time of romance is gone even in our rat'snest； and here also fresh air and petroleum have broken in。〃
Thus squeaked the Rat； he squeaked in honor of the old time；when Mother Plague was still alive。
A carriage stopped； a kind of open omnibus； drawn by swift horses。The pany mounted and drove away along the Boulevard deSebastopol； that is to say； the underground boulevard； over whichthe well…known crowded street of that name extended。
The carriage disappeared in the twilight； the Dryad disappeared；lifted to the cheerful freshness above。 Here； and not below in thevaulted passages； filled with heavy air； the wonder work must be foundwhich she was to seek in her short lifetime。 It must gleam brighterthan all the gas…flames； stronger than the moon that was justgliding past。
Yes； certainly； she saw it yonder in the distance； it gleamedbefore her； and twinkled and glittered like the evening star in thesky。
She saw a glittering portal open； that led to a little garden；where all was brightness and dance music。 Colored lamps surroundedlittle lakes； in which were water…plants of colored metal； fromwhose flowers jets of water spurted up。 Beautiful weeping willows；real products of spring； hung their fresh branches over these lakeslike a fresh； green； transparent； and yet screening veil。 In thebushes burnt an open fire； throwing a red twilight over the quiet hutsof branches； into which the sounds of music perated… an eartickling； intoxicating music； that sent the blood coursing through theveins。
Beautiful girls in festive attire； with pleasant smiles on theirlips； and the light spirit of youth in their hearts… 〃Marys；〃 withroses in their hair； but without carriage and postilion… flitted toand fro in the wild dance。
Where were the heads； where the feet？ As if stung by tarantulas；they sprang； laughed； rejoiced； as if in their ecstacies they weregoing to embrace all the world。
The Dryad felt herself torn with them into the whirl of the dance。Round her delicate foot clung the silken boot； chestnut brown incolor； like the ribbon that floated from her hair down upon her bareshoulders。 The green silk dress waved in large folds； but did notentirely hide the pretty foot and ankle。
Had she e to the enchanted Garden of Armida？ What was thename of the place？
The name glittered in gas…jets over the entrance。 It was〃Mabille。〃
The soaring upwards of rockets； the splashing of fountains； andthe popping of champagne corks acpanied the wild bacchanticdance。 Over the whole glided the moon thr