wenty
seven. That makes altogether---?"

"A hundred and sixty two francs," said Monsieur Benoit, presenting the
three bills.

"A hundred and sixty two francs," observed Rodolphe, "it is
extraordinary. What a fine thing arithmetic is. Well, Monsieur Benoit,
now that the account is settled we can both rest easy, we know exactly
how we stand. Next month I will ask you for a receipt, and as during
this time the confidence and friendship you must entertain towards me
can only increase, you can, in case it should become necessary, grant me
a further delay. However, if the landlord and the bootmaker are
inclined to be hasty, I would ask the friend to get them to listen to
reason. It is extraordinary, Monsieur Benoit, but every time I think of
your triple character as a landlord, a bootmaker, and a friend, I am
tempted to believe in the Trinity."

Whilst listening to Rodolphe the landlord had turned at one and the same
time red, green, white, and yellow, and at each fresh jest from his
lodger that rainbow of anger grew deeper and deeper upon his face.

"Sir," said he, "I do not like to be made game of. I have waited long
enough. I give you notice of quit, and unless you let me have some
money this evening, I know what I shall have to do."

"Money! money! Am I asking you for money?" said Rodolphe. "Besides, if I
had any, I should not give it to you. On a Friday, it would be unlucky."

Monsieur Benoit's wrath grew tempestuous, and if the furniture had not
belonged to him he would no doubt have smashed some of it.

"You are forgetting your bag," cried Rodolphe after him. "What a
business," murmured the young fellow, as he found himself alone. "I
would rather tame lions. But," he continued, jumping out of bed and
dressing hurriedly, "I cannot stay here. The invasion will continue. I
must flee; I must even breakfast. Suppose I go and see Schaunard. I will
ask him for some breakfast, and borrow a trifle. A hundred francs will
be enough. Yes, I'm off to Schaunard's."

Going downstairs, Rodolphe met Monsieur Benoit, who had received further
shocks from his other lodgers, as was attested by his empty bag.

"If any one asks for me, tell them I have gone into the country--to the
Alps," said Rodolphe. "Or stay, tell them that I no longer live here."

"I shall tell the truth," murmured Monsieur Benoit, in a very
significant tone.

Schaunard was living at Montmartre. It was necessary to go right through
Paris. This peregrination