your old landlord!"

"Faith, yes," replied Andrea, whose hunger prevailed over every other
feeling.

"So you like it, you rogue?"

"So much that I wonder how a man who can cook thus can complain of hard
living."

"Do you see," said Caderousse, "all my happiness is marred by one
thought?"

"What is that?"

"That I am dependent on another, I who have always gained my own
livelihood honestly."

"Do not let that disturb you, I have enough for two."

"No, truly; you may believe me if you will; at the end of every month I
am tormented by remorse."

"Good Caderousse!"

"So much so, that yesterday I would not take the two hundred francs."

"Yes, you wished to speak to me; but was it indeed remorse, tell me?"

"True remorse; and, besides, an idea had struck me." Andrea shuddered;
he always did so at Caderousse's ideas. "It is miserable--do you
see?--always to wait till the end of the month."--"Oh," said Andrea
philosophically, determined to watch his companion narrowly, "does not
life pass in waiting? Do I, for instance, fare better? Well, I wait
patiently, do I not?"

"Yes; because instead of expecting two hundred wretched francs, you
expect five or six thousand, perhaps ten, perhaps even twelve, for you
take care not to let any one know the utmost. Down there, you always had
little presents and Christmas-boxes which you tried to hide from your
poor friend Caderousse. Fortunately he is a cunning fellow, that friend
Caderousse."

"There you are beginning again to ramble, to talk again and again of the
past! But what is the use of teasing me with going all over that again?"

"Ah, you are only one and twenty, and can forget the past; I am fifty,
and am obliged to recollect it. But let us return to business."

"Yes."

"I was going to say, if I were in your place"--

"Well."

"I would realize"--

"How would you realize?"

"I would ask for six months' in advance, under pretence of being able to
purchase a farm, then with my six months I would decamp."

"Well, well," said Andrea, "that isn't a bad idea."

"My dear friend," said Caderousse, "eat of my bread, and take my advice;
you will be none the worse off, physically or morally."

"But," said Andrea, "why do you not act on the advice you gave me? Why
do you not realize a six months', a year's advance even, and retire
to Brussels? Instead of living the retired baker, you might live as a
bankrupt, using his privileges; that would be very good."

"Bu