valet. "He is a friend. Let him come
in, and bring us another glass. 'The more the merrier,' as the saying
goes."

What could Chupin want? M. Fortunat had no idea, but he was none the
less grateful for his coming, being determined to hand this troublesome
Casimir over to his keeping. On entering the room Chupin realized the
valet's condition at the first glance, and his face clouded. He
bowed politely to M. Fortunat, but addressed Casimir in an extremely
discontented tone. "It's three o'clock," said he, "and I've come, as we
agreed, to arrange with you about the count's funeral."

These words had the effect of a cold shower-bath on M. Casimir. "Upon
my word, I had forgotten--forgotten entirely, upon my word!" And the
thought of his condition, and the responsibility he had accepted, coming
upon him at the same time, he continued: "Good Heavens! I'm in a nice
state! It is all I can do to stand. What will they think at the house?
What will they say?"

M. Fortunat had drawn his clerk a little on one side. "Victor," said he,
quickly and earnestly, "I must go at once. Everything has been paid for;
but in case you need some money for a cab or anything of the sort, here
are ten francs. If there's any you don't use, keep it for yourself. I
leave this fool in your charge, take care of him."

The sight of the ten-franc piece made Chupin's face brighten a little.
"Very well," he replied. "I understand the business. I served my
apprenticeship as a 'guardian angel' when my grandmother kept the
Poivriere." [2]

"Above all, don't let him return home in his present state."

"Have no fears, monsieur, I must talk business with him, and so I shall
have him all right in a jiffy." And as M. Fortunat made his escape,
Chupin beckoned to the waiter, and said:

"Fetch me some very strong coffee, a handful of salt, and a lemon.
There's nothing better for bringing a drunken man to his senses."

XV.

M. Fortunat left the restaurant, almost on the run, for he feared that
he might be pursued and overtaken by M. Casimir. But after he had gone
a couple of hundred paces, he paused, not so much to take breath, as to
collect his scattered wits; and though the weather was cold, he seated
himself on a bench to reflect.

Never in all his changeful life had he known such intense anxiety and
torturing suspense as he had just experienced in that little room in the
restaurant. He had longed for positive information and he had obtained
it; b