for the disagreeable incident of Rose-Pompon's
appearance. It was, indeed, important to Rodin to find out the Bacchanal
Queen, the mistress of Sleepinbuff, and the sister of Mother Bunch, who
had been noted as dangerous since her interview with the superior of the
convent, and the part she had taken in the projected escape of Mdlle. de
Cardoville. Moreover, Rodin hoped--thanks to what he had just heard--to
bring Rose-Pompon to confess to him the name of the person from whom she
had learned that "Charlemagne" masked "Rodin."

Hardly had the young girl pronounced the name of the Bacchanal queen,
than Rodin clasped his hands, and appeared as much surprised as
interested.

"Oh, my dear child," he exclaimed, "I conjure you not to jest on this
subject. Are you speaking of a young girl who bears that nickname, the
sister of a deformed needlewoman."

"Yes, sir, the Bacchanal Queen is her nickname," said Rose-Pompon,
astonished in her turn; "she is really Cephyse Soliveau, and she is my
friend."

"Oh! she is your friend?" said Rodin, reflecting.

"Yes, sir, my bosom friend."

"So you love her?"

"Like a sister. Poor girl! I do what I can for her, and that's not much.
But how comes it that a respectable man of your age should know the
Bacchanal Queen?--Ah! that shows you have a false name!"

"My dear child, I am no longer inclined to laugh," said Rodin, with so
sorrowful an air, that Rose-Pompon, reproaching herself with her
pleasantry, said to him: "But how comes it that you know Cephyse?"

"Alas! I do not know her--but a young fellow, that I like excessively--"

"Jacques Rennepont?"

"Otherwise called Sleepinbuff. He is now in prison for debt," sighed
Rodin. "I saw him yesterday."

"You saw him yesterday?--how strange!" said Rose-Pompon, clapping her
hands. "Quick! quick!--come over to Philemon's, to give Cephyse news of
her lover. She is so uneasy about him."

"My dear child, I should like to give her good news of that worthy
fellow, whom I like in spite of his follies, for who has not been guilty
of follies?" added Rodin, with indulgent good-nature.

"To be sure," said Rose-Pompon, twisting about as if she still wore the
costume of a debardeur.

"I will say more," added Rodin: "I love him because of his follies; for,
talk as we may, my dear child, there is always something good at bottom,
a good heart, or something, in those who spend generously their money for
other people."

"Well, come! you are a very