s much more
harm, as to-morrow he will obtain a room for himself."

"The deuce he will!" replied the Skeleton. Then taking advantage of a
conversation which had commenced between Barbillon and Pique-Vinaigre,
he leaned towards Nicholas, and said, whisperingly, "You see, we have
not an instant to lose. After four o'clock to-day all chance of serving
him out is over; it is now nearly three. You see, unfortunately, he does
not sleep in my dormitory, or I would settle him in the night; and
to-morrow he will be out of our reach."

"Well, I don't care!" answered Nicholas, as though replying to some
observation of his companions; "I say--and I'll stick to it--Germain
always seems to look down upon us as though we were not as good as he."

"No, no!" interposed Pique-Vinaigre; "you are quite wrong as regards
this young man--you are, indeed. You frighten him--you do; and I know
that he considers himself not fit to hold a candle to you. Why, if you
only knew what he was saying to me just now--"

"Let's hear what it was!"

"'Why,' says he, 'you are a lucky fellow, Pique-Vinaigre, you are,' he
says, 'to take the liberty of speaking to the celebrated Skeleton (that
was the very word he used), just for all the world as if you were his
equal! But whenever I meet him,' he says, 'I feel myself overcome with
so much awe and respect that, though I would give my eyes out of my head
to know him and converse with him, I no more dare do it than I should
make bold to accost the _prefet de police_ if he were in his chair of
office, and me beholding him body and bones.'"

"He said that, did he?" returned the Skeleton, feigning to believe the
well-meant fiction of Pique-Vinaigre, as well as to feel gratified by
the deep admiration he was reported to have excited in the breast of
Germain.

"As true as that you are the cleverest ruffian upon earth, he said those
very words; and, more than that, he--"

"Oh, then, if that is the case," said the Skeleton, "I shall make it up
with him. Barbillon wanted to pick a quarrel with him, but I shall
advise him to be quiet."

"That's right!" exclaimed Pique-Vinaigre, fully persuaded that he had
effectually diverted from Germain the danger that threatened him; "that
would be much the best way! For this poor chicken-hearted fellow would
never quarrel,--simply because, like me, he has not pluck enough to
fight; therefore it is no use getting into a dispute."

"Still," cried the Skeleton, "I am sorry, to