nting into the room.

"And how are you, Mother Brigaut?" said Tantaine gayly. "I have a word
or two to say to you. You know that gentleman, do you not?"

"What a question? as if I did not know one of the gentlemen lodging
here?"

"What is his name?"

"M. Paul."

"What, plain M. Paul, and nothing else?"

"Well, sir, it is not his fault if he did not know his father or
mother."

"What does he do?"

"He is a musician; he gives lessons on the piano, and composes music."

"Does he do a good business?"

"I can't say, sir, but I should guess about two or three hundred francs
a month; and he makes that do, for he is economical and quiet, and as
modest as a young girl."

Tantaine's face shone all over with satisfaction.

"You must have known M. Paul for some time, as you seem so thoroughly
acquainted with his habits?" said he.

"Well, I ought to, for he has been here nearly fifteen months, and all
that time I have looked after his room."

"Do you know where he lived before he came here?"

"Of course I do, for I went to inquire about him in the Rue Jacob. The
people there were quite cut up at his leaving, but you see this was more
handy for the music publisher in the Rue Richelieu, for whom he works."

"Good, Mother Brigaut; that will do; you can leave us now."

As Paul listened to this brief conversation, he wondered if he was awake
or asleep. Tantaine stood at the door and watched the woman down stairs;
then he closed it carefully, and coming up to Paul, said,--

"Well, what do you think of all this?"

At first Paul was so astounded that he could hardly find words in which
to express himself; but he remembered the words that Dr. Hortebise had
so often dinned into his ears during the last five days,--

"Let nothing astonish you."

"I suppose," said he at last, "that you had taught this old woman her
lesson beforehand."

"Merciful powers!" exclaimed Tantaine in tones of extreme disgust. "If
these are all the ideas you have gained from what you have heard, our
task will not be by any means an easy one."

Paul was wounded by Tantaine's contemptuous manner.

"I understand well enough, sir," answered he sulkily, "that this is
merely a prologue to a romantic drama."

"You are right, my lad," cried he, in a more satisfied voice; "and it is
one that is quite indispensable. The plot of the drama will be revealed
to you later on, and also the reward you will receive if you play your
part well."

"But why