l towards myself for having so
completely failed."

At the name of Germain, another victim of the notary's unprincipled
persecution, Madame Seraphin redoubled her before close attention.

"And what has this poor young man done to deserve being put in prison?"
inquired Fleur-de-Marie.

"What has he done?" exclaimed Rigolette, whose grief became swallowed up
in indignation; "why, he has had the misfortune to fall into the hands
of a wicked old notary,--the same as persecutes poor Louise."

"Of her whom you have come to see?"

"To be sure; she lived as servant with this notary, and Germain was also
with him as cashier. It is too long a story to tell you now, how or of
what he unjustly accuses the poor fellow; but one thing is quite
certain, and that is, that the wretch of a notary pursues these two
unfortunate beings, who have never done him the least harm, with the
most determined malice and hatred. However, never mind,--a little
patience, 'every one in their turn,'--that's all." Rigolette uttered
these last words with a peculiarity of manner and expression that
created considerable uneasiness in the mind of Madame Seraphin. Instead,
therefore, of preserving the distance she had hitherto observed, she at
once joined in the conversation, saying to Fleur-de-Marie, with a kind
and maternal air:

"My dear girl, it is really growing too late for us to wait any
longer,--we must go; we are waited for, I assure you, with much anxiety.
I am sorry to hurry you away, because I can well imagine how much you
must be interested in what your friend is relating; for even I, who know
nothing of the two young persons she refers to, cannot help feeling my
very heart ache for their undeserved sufferings. Is it possible there
can be people in the world as wicked as the notary you were mentioning?
Pray, my dear mademoiselle, what may be the name of this bad man,--if I
may make so bold as to ask?"

Although Rigolette entertained not the slightest suspicion of the
sincerity of Madame Seraphin's affected sympathy, yet, recollecting how
strictly Rodolph had enjoined her to observe the utmost secrecy
respecting the protection he bestowed on both Germain and Louise, she
regretted having been led away by her affectionate zeal for her friends
to use such words,--"Patience; every one has his turn!"

"His name, madame, is Ferrand,--M. Jacques Ferrand, Notary," replied
Rigolette, skilfully adding, by way of compensation for her indiscreet
warmt