76 THE MYSTERIES OF PARIS. times right—and Germain did not make fun of these names?" "On the contrary, only the first time, it appeared droll to him, as to every one else—it is very simple; but when I explained my reasons, as I had explained them to M. Cabrion, the tears came into his eyes. From that day I said, ' M. Germain has a kind heart; he has nothing against him but his sadness.' And do you see, Monsieur Rodolphe, that he has brought me misfortune to reproach him for his sadness. Then I did not com- prehend how one could be sad. Now I comprehend it 'but too well. But now my work is finished, will you give me my shawl, my neighbor! it is not cold enough tor a cloak, is it?" " We shall go in a carriage, and I will bring you '.'It is true, we shall go and return quicker; it will be so much time gained." " But, on reflection, how are vou going to manage? your work will sutler trom your visit to the prisons?" "Oh no! no! I have laid my plans. In the first place, I have my Sundays; I will go and see Louise and Germain on these days—it will serve me for a walk and recreation; then, in the week, I shall go to the prison once or twice; each time will cost me three good hours, will it not? WeU, to make up for this, I will work one hour more each day, and I will go to bed at twelve o'clock instead of eleven; that will give me a clear gain of seven or eight hours each week, which I can use in going to see Louise and Ger- main. You see, I am richer than I appear to be, added Rigolette, smiling. ' ' And do you not fear this will fatigue you?" " Bah 1 I can do it; one can do anything; and, besides, it will not last forever." "Here is your shawl, my neighbor. I shall not be so indiscreet as yesterday—I shall not bring my lips too close to this charming neck." "Ah, my neighbor! yesterday was yesterday—one cold laugh; but to-day is different- take care, you prick me!" "Come! the pin is crooked." " Well, take another; there, on the pin cushion. Ah! I forget: will you do me a favor, my neighbor?" " Command, my neighbor." " Make me a good pen, very coarse, so that I can. on my return, write to this p 10'r Germain that his commissions are executed. He shall have my letter to-morrow morning early. " " And where are your pens!" "There, on the table; the knife is in the drawer. Stop,-1 am going to light my candle, for it grows quite dark." "I shall want it to mend the pen." 'Xnd, besides, I can't see to tie my bonnet." Rigolette took a match and lit an end of candle which was in a very shining candlestick. "Diable! wax candle, my neighbor—what luxury! " For all I burn, it cost me a trifle more than a tal- low candle, and it is so much neater." "Not much dearer?" „ ,, , 2 "Mon Dieu! no. I buy these ends of candles by the pound, and a half pound serves me a month." " But," said Rodolphe, mending the pen carefully, while the grisette tied her bonnet before the glass, " I see no preparations for your dinner?" " I haven't a shadow of hunger. I took a cup of milk this morning: I will take another to-night, with a little bread; I shall have enough." "Wili you not come and eat dinner with me when we come away from Germain's?" " I thank you, my neighbor, I have the heart too full ; another time, with pleasure. What do you say to the evening of the day that poor Germain comes out ot prison? I invite myself, and afterward we will go to the play. Is it said?" ¦ "It is said, my neighbor; I assure you that I shall not forget this engagement. But to-day—you refuse me»" " Yes, Monsieur Rodolphe, I should he too stupid to-day; besides, it would take up too much time. Only think! it is now, if ever, that I must not be lazy." " Come, I give up this pleasure for to-day." " Here, take my bundle, my neighbor; go, before I will shut the door." "Here is an excellent pen—now, your bundle. " Take care you don't tumble it—it is ' poult de soie —it shows the folds—hold it in your hand—to this way- lightly—well, pass on, I will light you." And Rodolphe descended, preceded bv Rigolette. As they psssed the lodge they saw M, Pipelet, who, with his arms hanging down, advanced towards them from the bottom of the alley; in one hand he held the sign, which announced to the public that he would make "commerce d'ami- tie" with Cabrion; and in the other, the portrait of the infernal painter. . The despair of Alfred was so overwhelming, that his chin rested on his breast, and nothit g could be seen but the top of his " chapeau tromblon." On seeing him approach thus, with his head down, towards Rodolphe and Rigolette, one would have said it was a goat, or a brave " breton champion " preparing for combat. Anastasia soon appeared on the threshold, and cried, at the sight of her husband, "Well! old darling! here you are, hey! what did the commissary say to V you? Alfred! but pay attention, now, you are going to poke yourself against my prince of lodgers—who has Stolen your eyes? Pardon! Monsieur Rodolphe, it is this beggar of a Cabrion who stupefies him more and more—he certainly will make him turn to a jackass — the 'vieuse cheril' Alfred! but, answer, then?" At this voice, so dear to his heart, M. Pipelet raised his head; his features were imprinted with a melancholy bitterness. "What did the commissary say to you?" repeated Anastasia. " Anastasia, you must collect the little that we possess, clasp our friends in our arms, pack our trunks, and expatriate ourselves from France —from my ' belle France!' for, sure now of immunity, the monster is capable of pursuing me everywhere." " How! the commissary?" "The commissary!" cried M. Pipelet, with savage indignation; "the commissary 1 he laughed in my "Your face! an aged man, who has so respectable an air, that you'd look as stupid as a goose, if one did not know your virtues!" " Well! notwithstanding that when I had respectful-, ly deposed before him my heap of complaints and griefs against this infernal Cabrion, this magistrate, after having looked at, laughing—yes, laughing—and I dare to say it—laughing indecently—the sign and the portrait, which I produced as justificatory of my com- plaint, this magistrate replied, ' My good man, this Cabrion is a funny fellow: he is a " farceur;" pay no attention to his jokes. I advise you, now, in a friendly manner, to laugh at them, for really there is cause!' 'To laugh' Mossieur,' cried I, 'to laugh! but grief is devouring one—they imbitter my existence, those Scoundrels—they pester me—they will cause me to lose my reason—I demand that they be locked up. they be exiled, at least, from my street.' At words the commissary smiled, and obligingly showed me the door. I understood this gesture of the magis- trate, and here lam." " Magistrate of nothing at ail!" cried Madame Pipelet. "AU is finished! Anastasia, all is finished! No more hope! There is no longer any justice in France I lam atrociously sacrificed!" and, by way of peroration, M. Pipelet threw, with all his strength, ftie portrait and sign to the end of the alley. Rodolphe and Rigolette had, in the obscurity, slightly smiled at the despair of M. Pipelet. After having ad- dressed; some words of consolation to Alfred, whom Anastasia was calming in the best way she could, the prince of lodgers left the house of the Rue du Temple with Rigolette, and got into a carriage to go to the resi- dence of Francois Germain. Chapter XVII.—The Will. Francois Germain lived on the Boulevard Saint Denis, No. 11. We wil! recall to the reader that which he has doubtless forgotten, that Madame Mathieu, the diamond broker of whom we have spoken, lived in the same house as Germain. During the long ride from, the Rue du Temple to the Rue Saint Honore, where the woman lived who furnished Rigolette with work, Rodolphe was able to appreciate still more the excel- lent feelings of the young girl. Like all characters in- stinctively good and devoted, she was not conscious of the delicacy, the generosity of her conduct, which seemed to her quite natural. Nothing had been easier for Rodolphe than to have made a liberal provision for Rigolette, as well for her present wants as the future, so that she could have gone charitably to console Louise and Germain, with- out counting the time she lost in these visits from her work, her only resource: but the prince feared to weaken the merit of the grisette's devotion in render- ing it too easy ; quite decided to recompense the rare and charming qualities which he had discovered in her, he wished to follow her to the end of this new and in- teresting trial. At the end of an hour, the carriage, on its return from the Rue Saint Honore, stopped on the Boulevard Saint Denis, No. 11, before a house of mod- est appearance. Rodolphe assisted Rigolette to alight: she entered the porter's lodge, and communicated to him the inten- tions of Germain, without forgetting the promised gra- tuity. From his amenity of disposition, the son of the Maitre d'Eeole was everywhere loved. The confrere, of M. Pipelet was much concerned to learn that the house should lose so honest and quiet a lodger; such were his expressions. The grisette, furnished with a light. that these joined lier companion; the porter was to follow, after a little while, to receive instructions. The chamber of Germain was on the fourth story. On arriving at the door, Rigolette said to Rodolphe, giving him the key: " Here, my neighbor, open—my hand trembles too much. You will laugh at me; but, in thinking that poor Germain will never return here, it seems to me I am about to enter in the chamber of the dead." " Come, be reasonable, now, my neighbor—have no such ideas!" " I was wrong, but it was stronger than I," and she wiped away a tear. Without being so much moved as his companion, Rodolphe, nevertheless, experienced a painful impression on entering this mod- est apartment. Knowing how he had been pursued, and, perhaps, still pursued by the accomplices of the Maitre d'Eeole, he knew that this unfortunate young man must have passed many sad hours in this solitude. Rigolette placed.the light on a table. Nothing could be more plain than the furniture of this sleeping room, com- posed of a bed, a commode, a secretary of black wal- nut, four straw-bottomed chairs, and a table; white cotton curtains covered the windows and the alcove; the only ornaments on the mantelpiece were a decanter and a glass. From the appearance of the bed, which ¦ was made, it eould be seen that Germain had thrown himself upon it without taking off his clothes the night preceeding his arrest. " Poor fellow!" said Rigolette, sadly, examining, with interest, the interior of the chamber; " it is easily to be seen that he no longer has me for a neighbor. It is in order, but not neat; there is dust everywhere, the cur- tains are smoked, the windows are dirty, the floor is not washed. Ah 1 what a difference ! Rue du Temple, itwas not handsome,.but it was more gay, because everything shone with neatness, likeinmy own room." "It was because you were there, to give your advice." "But see, now," cried Rigolette, showing the beds, "he did not go to rest the other night, so much was he dis- turbed. Look here I this handkerchief, which he has left, has been steeped in tears. That is plain to be seen;" and she took it, adding, "Germain has kept-a lit tie orange-silk cravat of mine, which I gave him when we were: happy; I am sure he will not be angry." "Or. the contrary, lie will be very happy at this proof of your affection." " Now let us think of serious mat- ters: I will make a package of linen, which I shall find "in the commode, to take to him in prison: La Mere Bouvard, who I shall send here tomorrow, will manage the rest. First, however, I'll open the secretary and take out the papers and money which M. Germain begged me keep for him." " But, while I think of it," said Rodolphe, " Louis Morel gave me, yesterday, the 1,300 francs in gold, which Germain had given her to paj the debt of her father, but which I had already done; Ihave this money: it belongs to Germain, since he has paid back tne notary; I will give it to you; you- can add it to the rest. " '• As you please, Monsieur Ro- dolphe; yet, I would rather not have so large a sum with me at home, there are so many robbers nowadays. Papers are very well—there is nothing to fear; but money—it is dangerous." "Perhaps you are right, my neighbor; shall I take charge of this sum? If Germain has need of anything, you must let me know at once. I will leave you my address, and I will send you what he wants." " I should not have dared to ask this service from you; it would be much better, my neighbor. I will give you also tbe money I shall receive from the sale of his effects. Letus see these papers." said the young girl, opening the secretary and several drawers. " Ah ! it is probably this. Here is a large envelope. Ah ! mon Dieu! look here, Monsieur Rodolphe, how sad it is, what is written on this." And she read, in a faltering tone: "'In the case I should die of a violent death, or otherwise, I beg the person who should open this secre- tary to carry these papers to Mademoiselle Rigolette, sempstress, Rue du Temple, No. 7. ' " Can I break the seal, Monsieur Rodolphe?" " Doubt- less; does he not say that among these papers there is one particularly addressed to you?" The young girl broke the seal. Several papers ivere enclosed; one of them, bearing the superscription, " To Mademoiselle Rigolette," contained these words: "Mademoiselle— When vou read this letter, I shall no longer exist. If, as I fear, I die a violent death, in falling a victim to a fearful murder, some information, under the title of ' Notes on my Life,' may give a clue to my assassins." "Ah! Monsieur Rodolphe," said Rigolette, "I am no longer astonished that he was so sad. Poor Germain ! always lo be pursued by such ideas!" "Yes; he must have been much afflicted. But his worst days are over, believe me." "Alas! I hope so, Monsieur Rodolphe. But, however, to be in prison —accused of robbery." " Be comforted. Once Ins in- nocence recognized, instead of falling into an isolated state, he will find friends. You, in the first place; then a beloved mother, from whom he has been separated since his childhood." "His mother! He has still a mother»" "Yes. She thinks him lost to her. Judge of her joy when she will see him again. Do not speak to him of his mother. I confide this secret to you, be- cause, you interest yourself so generously in his favor." "I thank you, Monsieur Rodolphe; you may be as- sured I will keep your secret. " And Rigolette continued the reading of his letter: " ' If you will, Mademoiselle, look over these notes, you will see that I have been all my life very unhappy, except -during tlie time I passed with you. That which 1 should never have dared to tell you, you will find written in a kind of memento, entitled " My sole days of happiness" "* Almost every evening, on leaving you, I thus poured out the consoling thoughts that your affection inspired, and which alone tempered the bitterness of my life. That which was friendship when with you, became love when absent from you. I have concealed this until this moment when I.shall be no more for you than perhaps a ' triste souvenir/" My destiny was so unhappy, that 1 should never have spoken to you of this sentiment; although sincere and profound, it would only have made you unhappy. " ' One wish alone remains to be fulfilled, and I hope that you will accomplish it. I have seen with what ad- mirable courage you work, and how much method and economy was necessary for you to live on the small amount you earn so industriously. Often, without telling you, I have trembled in thinking that a malady, caused, perhaps, by excess of labor, might reduce you to a situation so frightful that I could not even think of it without alarm. It is very grateful to me to think that I can at least spare you the horrors, and, perhaps, in a great degree, the miseries, which you, in the thoughtlessness of youth, do not foresee, happily.' , "What does he mean, Monsieur Rodolphe?" said Rigolette, astonished. " Continue; we shall see.' " I kn'ow on how little you can live, and what a resource the smallest sum would be to you in a time of difficulty. I am very poor, but by economy, I have set aside 1,500 francs, deposited at a banker's; it is all that I possess. By my will, which you will find here, I bequeath it to you; accept it from a friend, a good brother, who is no more.' Ah! Monsieur Rodolphe," said Rigolette, bursting into tears, and giving the letter to the prince, " thisgivesme too much pain. Good Germain, thus to think of me! Ahl what a heart! mon Dieul what an excellent heart!" "Worthy and good young rnanl" replied Rodolphe, with emotion. " But calm yourself, my child. ' Dieu merci,' Germain is not, dead: this an- ticipated, will at least serve as a witness of his love for you." " It is true. To be beloved by so good ayoung man, is very flattering, is it not Monsieur Rodolphe?" , " And some day, perhaps, you will participate in this "Dame! Monsieur Rudolphe, it is very trying; this poor Germain is so much to be pitied ! I'll put myself in his place—if at the moment when I thought myself abandoned, despised by all the world, a person, a, good friend came to me, still more kind than I could hope for—I should be so happy !" After a moment's pause, Rigolette resumed with a sigh, "On the other hand, we are both so poor, that perhaps it would not be reason- able. Look here, Monsieur Rodolphe, I do not wish to think of that; perhaps I am mistaken; what is sure is, that I will do all I can for Germain as long as he,re- mains in prison. Once free, it will always be time enough to see if it is love or friendship I feel for him : then if it is love—what would you, my neighbor? it will be love. But it grows late, Monsieur Rodolphe; will you collect these papers, while I make up a-bundle of linen? Ah! I forget the 'sachet' enclosing the little orange cravat which I gave him. It is in this drawer, without a doubt. Oh, see how pretty it is, this ' sachet, and all embroidered! Poor Germain! he has guarded it like a relic! I well remember the last time I wore it, and when I gave it to him. He was so happy, so happy." ,, , At this moment some one knocked at the door. " Who is there?" demanded Rodolphe. " I want to speak to Madame Mathieu." answered a hoarse and husky voice, with an accent which de- noted the speaker to be one of the lowest order. (Ma- dame Mathieu was the diamond broker of whom we have, spoken.) This voice, singularly accented, awakened some, vague recollections in tlie mind of Rodolphe. Wishing-to en- lighten them, he went and opened the door. He found himself face to face with one of the " habitues "of the the tapis-f i-anc of the Ogresse, whom he recognized at once, so fully and plainly was the stamp of crime marked on this youthful and besotted face—it was Bar- billon. ¦ , , , . . , Barbillon, the mock coachman of the hack, which had conveyed the Maitre d'Eeole and La Chouette to the "chemin creux" of Bouqueval; Barbillon, the mur- derer of the husband of the milkwoman, who commit- ted such an outrage on the Goualeuse at the farm of Either this wretch had forgotten the features of Rodolphe, whom he had seen only once at the tapis- franc of the Ogresse, or the change of dress prevented him from recognizing the conqueror of the Chourineur; he. manifested no astonishment at his appearance. " What do you want?" said Rodolphe. "Here is a let- ter for Madame Mathieu. I must give it into her own hands," answered Barbillon. "She does not live here; inquire opposite, said Rodolphe. ,, ,L ., , _ " Thank you, bourgeois; they told me it was the door to the left; I am mistaken." Rodolphe did not recol- lect the name of the diamond broker; he had there- fore no motive to interest himself about the woman to whom Barbillon came as a messenger. Nevertheless although he was ignorant of tha crimes of this bandit, his face had such a guilty look of perversity, that he remained on the threshold of the door, curious to see