ng to take the two
francs' piece the old starvemouse offered, so I took it for her. We made
our courtesies and came away."

"You have managed admirably, Madame Pipelet; and I do not forget my
promise; here is what I promised you, if you managed to get this girl
taken off my hands."

"Wait till to-morrow before you give it me, my king of lodgers!" cried
Madame Pipelet, putting back the money Rodolph offered her; "perhaps,
when I go to take Cecily this evening, M. Ferrand may have changed his
mind."

"Not he, depend upon it! But where is she?"

"In the small room adjoining the apartments of the commandant; she will
not stir out after the orders you gave. She seems mild and gentle as a
lamb; but then, her eyes! Oh, dear! It is difficult to fancy her either
one or the other, when one looks at those--Talking of the commandant,
what a plotting, mysterious person he is! Would you believe it? When he
came here to superintend the packing up of his furniture, he told me
that if any letters came addressed to 'Madame Vincent,' they were for
him, and that I was to send them to the Rue Mondine, No. 5. The idea of
the pretty creature having his letters addressed as if for a female!
What a conceited jackanapes he is! But the best of it was, he asked me
what had become of his wood! 'Your wood?' said I, 'why don't you ask
after your forest when you are about it?' Oh, I said it so flat and
plain! A mean, grasping hound, to trouble himself to ask after two
pitiful loads of wood,--his wood, indeed! 'What has become of your
wood?' repeated I, still working him on, till he got quite white with
passion, 'why, I burnt it to keep your things from the damp, which would
otherwise have made mushrooms grow upon your fine embroidered cap, and
the mildew from rotting your smart, glittering _robe de chambre_, which
you must love so dearly, because you have put it on so many times when
you were fool enough to wait for those who never meant to come, but were
only laughing at you,--like the lady who made believe she was going to
pay you a visit, and then passed your door, though you had set it wide
open to show yourself decked in all your finery. Your wood, indeed! I
like that! You poor squeeze-penny of a commandant,--enough to disgust
one with men altogether.'"

A deep, plaintive groan, something between a grunt and a sigh, from the
bed on which Alfred reposed, here interrupted Madame Pipelet.

"Ah, there's the old duck beginning to stir; he will