ut the officer, "I say, are you coming or are you
not?"

"That's all right!" said Nicholas. "We've got well rid of Frank and the
bailiff, now let's go to work without further loss of time upon the
sneak!"

As Frank was being led from the prison yard, Germain and Pique-Vinaigre
entered it. It was scarcely possible to recognise Germain, for his
hitherto melancholy and dejected countenance was radiant with joy and
exulting happiness. He walked proudly erect, casting around him a look
of certain and assured content; he knew himself to be beloved, and with
that consciousness all the horrors of his prison seemed to disappear.
Pique-Vinaigre followed him with a timid, confused air, and, after much
hesitation, at length plucked up sufficient courage to venture to
address Germain, whose arm he gently touched, ere the intended victim
had reached the group of prisoners, who, from a distance, were examining
him with looks of deadly hatred. Spite of himself, Germain shuddered at
thus being brought into contact with a person of Pique-Vinaigre's
appearance, whose wretched person and ragged attire were ill-calculated
to impress any one with a favourable opinion of him; but recollecting
the earnest advice of Rigolette, and feeling altogether too happy
himself to act with any want of benevolence, Germain stopped, and said
to Pique-Vinaigre, in a gentle tone of voice:

"What do you want with me, my friend?"

"I want to thank you."

"For what?"

"For the kindness shown to my sister by the pretty young woman who
visited you to-day."

"I really do not understand you," said Germain, much surprised.

"Well, then, I'll try and make you. Just now, when I was in the lodge of
the prison, I saw the man who was on duty in the visitors' room a little
while ago."

"Ah, yes, a very good-hearted sort of man, too. I recollect him well."

"It is not often you can apply that term to the gaolers of a prison, but
the man I mean (Rousel is his name) is really deserving of being styled
a kind, good-hearted man. So, all of a sudden, he whispers in my ear, 'I
say, Pique-Vinaigre, my lad,' he says, 'do you know M. Germain?' 'Yes,'
says I, 'I do,' says I; 'he's the _bete noire_ of the prison yard.'"
Then suddenly interrupting himself, Pique-Vinaigre said to Germain, "I
beg your pardon for calling you a _bete noire_. Don't, think anything of
that, but listen to the end of my story."

"Oh, I'm listening; go on."

"'Yes,' says I, 'I know who you mean