to be pitied, in the midst
of all these wretches in his prison! Ah, M. Rodolph, from to-day I begin
to see that life is not all _couleur-de-rose_."

"And what do you propose to do, my little neighbour?"

"What do I mean to do? Why, of course, all that Germain asks of me, and
as quickly as possible. I should have been gone before now, but for this
work, which is required in great haste, and which I must take instantly
to the Rue St. Honore, on my way to Germain's room, where I am going to
get the papers he speaks of. I have passed part of the night at work,
that I might be forward. I shall have so many things to do besides my
usual work that I must be excessively methodical. In the first place,
Madame Morel is very anxious that I should see Louise in prison. That
will be a hard task, but I shall try to do it. Unfortunately, I do not
know to whom I should address myself."

"I had thought of that."

"You, neighbour?"

"Here is an order."

"How fortunate! Can't you procure me also an order for the prison of
poor, unhappy Germain? He would be so delighted!"

"I will also find you the means of seeing Germain."

"Oh, thank you, M. Rodolph."

"You will not be afraid, then, of going to his prison?"

"Certainly not; although my heart will beat very violently the first
time. But that's nothing. When Germain was free, was he not always ready
to anticipate all my wishes, and take me to the theatre, for a walk, or
read to me of an evening? Well, and now he is in trouble, it is my turn.
A poor little mouse like me cannot do much, I know that well enough; but
all I can do I will do, that he may rely upon. He shall find that I am a
sincere friend. But, M. Rodolph, there is one thing which pains me, and
that is that he should doubt me,--that he should suppose me capable of
despising him! I!--and for what, I should like to know? That old notary
accuses him of robbery. I know it is not true. Germain's letter has
proved to me that he is innocent, even if I had thought him guilty. You
have only to see him, and you would feel certain that he is incapable of
a bad action. A person must be as wicked as M. Ferrand to assert such
atrocious falsehoods."

"Bravo, neighbour; I like your indignation."

"Oh, how I wish I were a man, that I might go to this notary and say to
him, 'Oh, you say that Germain has robbed you, do you? Well, then,
that's for you! And that he cannot steal from you, at all events?' And
thump--thump--thump, I woul