t
Honore, and again entered the _cafe_ where he and his worthy confederate
had agreed to meet. Mascarin was there, an untasted cutlet before him,
and his face hidden by a newspaper which his anxiety would not permit
him to peruse. His suspense was terrible. Had Hortebise failed? had he
encountered one of those unforeseen obstacles which, like a minute grain
of sand, utterly hinders the working of a piece of delicate machinery?

"Well, what news?" said he eagerly, as soon as he caught sight of the
doctor.

"Success, perfect success!" said Hortebise gayly. "But," added he, as he
sank exhausted upon a seat, "the battle has been a hard one."

CHAPTER VII.

IN THE STUDIO.

Staggering like a drunken man, Paul Violaine descended the stairs
when his interview with Mascarin had been concluded. The sudden and
unexpected good fortune which had fallen so opportunely at his feet
had for the moment absolutely stunned him. He was now removed from a
position which had caused him to gaze with longing upon the still waters
of the Seine, to one of comparative affluence. "Mascarin," said he to
himself, "has offered me an appointment bringing in twelve thousand
francs per annum, and proposed to give me the first month's salary in
advance."

Certainly it was enough to bewilder any man, and Paul was utterly dazed.
He went over all the events that had occurred during the day--the sudden
appearance of old Tantaine, with his loan of five hundred francs, and
the strange man who knew the whole history of his life, and who, without
making any conditions, had offered him a valuable situation. Paul was
in no particular hurry to get back to the Hotel de Perou, for he said to
himself that Rose could wait. A feeling of restlessness had seized
upon him. He wanted to squander money, and to have the sympathy of some
companions,--but where should he go, for he had no friends? Searching
the records of his memory, he remembered that, when poverty had first
overtaken him, he had borrowed twenty francs from a young fellow of his
own age, named Andre. Some gold coins still jingled in his pocket, and
he could have a thousand francs for the asking. Would it not add to his
importance if he were to go and pay this debt? Unluckily his creditor
lived a long distance off in the Rue de la Tour d'Auvergne. He, however,
hailed a passing cab, and was driven to Andre's address. This young man
was only a casual acquaintance, whom Paul had picked up one day in a
s