ctures to return to you; they are now at Monsieur
Hochon's. Will you be kind enough to come over some day and identify
them."

Saying these last words in a curt tone, lieutenant-colonel Philippe
Bridau departed. The tone of his visit made, if possible, a deeper
impression on Flore's mind, and also on that of Max, than the shock
they had felt at the first sight of that horrible campaigner. As soon as
Philippe had slammed the door, with the violence of a disinherited heir,
Max and Flore hid behind the window-curtains to watch him as he crossed
the road, to the Hochons'.

"What a vagabond!" exclaimed Flore, questioning Max with a glance of her
eye.

"Yes; unfortunately there were men like him in the armies of the
Emperor; I sent seven to the shades at Cabrera," answered Gilet.

"I do hope, Max, that you won't pick a quarrel with that fellow," said
Mademoiselle Brazier.

"He smelt so of tobacco," complained the old man.

"He was smelling after your money-bags," said Flore, in a peremptory
tone. "My advice is that you don't let him into the house again."

"I'd prefer not to," replied Rouget.

"Monsieur," said Gritte, entering the room where the Hochon family were
all assembled after breakfast, "here is the Monsieur Bridau you were
talking about."

Philippe made his entrance politely, in the midst of a dead silence
caused by general curiosity. Madame Hochon shuddered from head to foot
as she beheld the author of all Agathe's woes and the murderer of good
old Madame Descoings. Adolphine also felt a shock of fear. Baruch
and Francois looked at each other in surprise. Old Hochon kept his
self-possession, and offered a seat to the son of Madame Bridau.

"I have come, monsieur," said Philippe, "to introduce myself to you; I
am forced to consider how I can manage to live here, for five years, on
sixty francs a month."

"It can be done," said the octogenarian.

Philippe talked about things in general, with perfect propriety. He
mentioned the journalist Lousteau, nephew of the old lady, as a "rara
avis," and won her good graces from the moment she heard him say that
the name of Lousteau would become celebrated. He did not hesitate to
admit his faults of conduct. To a friendly admonition which Madame
Hochon addressed to him in a low voice, he replied that he had reflected
deeply while in prison, and could promise that in future he would live
another life.

On a hint from Philippe, Monsieur Hochon went out with him whe