arated from the others?"

"For the last two or three days, since I have seen their ill-will
towards him, I advised him to place himself what we call _a la
pistole_,--that is, in a room."

"Well?"

"I had not thought of one thing. A whole row of cells is undergoing
repair, and the others are full."

"But these wretches may kill him!" said Rigolette, her eyes filling with
tears. "And if, by chance, he had any protectors, what could they do for
him, sir?"

"Nothing, but enable him to obtain what these debtors who can pay for it
obtain,--a chamber, _a la pistole_."

"Alas, then, he is lost, if they hate him in prison."

"Oh, don't be downhearted, we will look well to him. But I repeat, my
dear, do advise him to familiarise himself a little,--the first step is
half the battle."

"I will advise him as strongly as I can, sir. But for a good and honest
heart it is very hard, you know, to familiarise itself with such
people."

"Of two evils we must choose the least. Now I will fetch M. Germain. But
now I think of it," said the turnkey, "there are only two visitors; wait
until they are gone, there'll not be any more to-day, for it is two
o'clock. I will then fetch M. Germain, and you can talk at your ease. I
can then, when you are alone, let him come into the passage, so that you
will be separated by one grating instead of two. Won't that be better?"

"Ah, sir, how kind you are, and how much I thank you!"

"Hush! Do not let any one hear you, or they may be jealous. Sit down
there at the end of the bench, and when this man and woman have gone, I
will tell M. Germain."

The turnkey returned to his post inside the grating, and Rigolette sat
down very melancholy at the end of the visitors' bench.

Whilst the grisette is awaiting the coming of Germain, we will allow the
reader to overhear the conversation of the prisoners who remained there
after the departure of Nicholas Martial.

CHAPTER VI.

PIQUE-VINAIGRE.

The prisoner who was beside Barbillon was a man about forty-five years
of age, thin, mean-looking, with a keen, intelligent, jovial, merry
face. He had an enormous mouth, almost entirely toothless; and, when he
spoke, he worked it from side to side, very much after the style of
those orators who are accustomed to harangue from booths at fairs. His
nose was flat, his head disproportionately large and nearly bald; he
wore an old gray knit worsted waistcoat, a pair of trousers of
indescribable colour,