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Updated: May 17, 2025
A host of masons, carpenters, and laborers, sufficient to have quite depopulated Johnstown during the daylight hours, were hammering, hewing, or clinking the chimney-bricks with their trowels, within and about the structure. At a sufficient distance from this tumult of construction, and on a level, high plot of lawn, was a pretty marquee tent.
There were a few old blackened chimney-bricks still there, the step-stone worn by dead and forgotten feet, and the old lilac-bushes that had grown against the front windows. Two poplar-trees, too, stood where the front yard had met the road, casting long shadows like men. Sylvia Crane's house was just beyond, and Barney passed it with a furtive anxious glance, because Charlotte's aunt lived there.
"Are the chimney-bricks coming down on my head?" exclaimed du Tillet, bursting into a laugh. Cesar, misled by the luxury about him, fancied it was the laugh of a man to whom the sum was a mere trifle; he breathed again. Du Tillet rang the bell. "Send the cashier to me." "He has not come, monsieur," said the valet. "These fellows take advantage of me!
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