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"I do not know: the lady sold me the things in the presence of the porter; I had not the necessity to ask her name, as what she sold belonged to herself."
"But their new abode?"
"That, also, I do not know."
"Perhaps they can inform me at their old lodging?"
"No, sir; for when I returned to fetch away the things, the porter said, speaking of the mother and daughter; 'They are very quiet people, but very unhappy; some misfortunes have happened to them. They always appeared calm; but I am sure they were in a state of despair.'
'And where are they going to lodge at this late hour?' I asked him.
'In truth, I know nothing,' answered he; 'it is, however, quite certain they will not return here.'"
The hopes that Rudolph had entertained for a moment vanished. How could he discover these two unhappy females, having only as a clew the name of the young girl, Claire, and the fragment of a letter, of which we have spoken, at the bottom of which were the words: "_Write to Madame de Lucenay, for M. de Saint-Remy_."
The only chance, and that was a very faint one, of tracing these unfortunates, rested in Madame de Lucenay, who, fortunately, was on intimate terms with Lady d'Harville.
"Here, madame, pay yourself," said Rudolph to the shopkeeper, giving her a note for five hundred francs.
"I will give you the difference, sir."
"Where can I engage a cart to carry the things?"
"If it be not very far, a large truck will be sufficient; Father Jerome has one, quite close by; I always employ him. What is your address?"
"No. 17, Rue du Temple."
"Rue du Temple, No. 17. Yes, yes, I know the house."
"You have been there?"
"Many times. First, I bought some clothes of a p.a.w.nbroker who lived there. It is true, she did not carry on a large business, but that was no affair of mine: she sold, I bought, and we were quits. Another time, not six months ago, I went again for the furniture of a young man who lived on the fourth story, and who was going to remove."
"M. Francois Germain, perhaps," said Rudolph.
"The same. Do you know him?"
"Very well. Unhappily, he has not left in the Rue du Temple his present address, and I do not know where to find him."
"If that be all, I can remove the difficulty."
"You know where he lives?"
"Not exactly; but I know where you will be sure to meet with him."
"Where is that?"--
"At a notary's, where he is employed."
"At a notary's?"
"Yes; who lives in the Rue du Sentier."
"M. Jacques Ferrand!" exclaimed Rudolph.
"The same; a worthy man; he has a crucifix and a bit of the true cross in his office, which reminds one of a sacristy."
"But how do you know that M. Germain is with the notary?"
"Why, in this way. The young man came to me, and proposed that I should buy all his furniture; although not in my way of business, I agreed, and afterward retailed them here; for, as it suited the young man, I did not like to refuse. Well, then, I bought him clean out, and gave him a good price; he was, doubtless, satisfied with me, for at the end of a fortnight he came to buy a bedstead and bedding. He brought with him a truck and a porter; they packed up all; but just as he was about to pay he found he had forgotten his purse. He appeared such an honest young man, that I said to him: 'Take the things with you, all the same; I will call for the money.''Very well,' he said; 'but I am seldom at home; call, therefore, tomorrow, in the Rue du Sentier, at M. Jacques Ferrand's the notary, where I am employed, and I will then pay you.' I went the next day, and he paid me. Only, what I thought so odd, was, his selling me all his goods, and buying others in a fortnight after."
Rudolph thought he could account for the cause of this singularity.
Germain, wis.h.i.+ng that the wretches who pursued him should lose all traces, of him, had sold his goods, thinking that if he removed them it might give a clew to his new abode, and had preferred, to avoid this evil, purchasing others, and taking them himself to his lodgings.
Rudolph started with joy when he thought of the happiness for Mrs.
George, who was at last about to see this son, so long and vainly sought.
Miss Dimpleton now returned with joyful eyes and smiling lips.
"Well, did I not tell you?" she exclaimed. "I was not wrong: we have spent, in all, six hundred and forty francs, and the Morels will be housed like princes. See! the shopkeepers are coming: are they not loaded? Nothing is wanted for the use of the family--even to a gridiron, two beautiful saucepans newly tinned, and a coffee-pot. I said to myself, since everything is to be had, it shall be so; and, besides all that, I have spent three hours. But make haste and pay, neighbor, and let us go. It is almost noon, and my needle must go at a pretty rate to overtake this morning!"
Rudolph paid, and left the Temple with Miss Dimpleton. As the grisette and her companion entered the pa.s.sage of the house, they were almost thrown down by Mrs. Pipelet, who was running out, troubled, frightened, aghast.
"Gracious heaven!" said Miss Dimpleton, "what is the matter with you, Mrs. Pipelet? Where are you running to in that manner?"
"Is that you, Miss Dimpleton?" exclaimed Anastasia.
"Providence has sent you. Help me! save the life of Alfred!"
"What do you say?"
"That poor old darling has fainted! Have pity upon us! run and fetch two sous worth of absinthe--very strong; that is the remedy when he is indisposed in the pylorus. Be kind; do not refuse me, and I can return to Alfred. I am quite confused!"
Miss Dimpleton left Rudolph's arm, and ran off to the dram-shop.
"But what has happened, Mrs. Pipelet?" asked Rudolph, following the portress, who returned to the lodge.
"How should I know, my worthy sir? I left home to go to the mayor's, the church, and the cook-shop, to prevent Alfred from tiring himself.
I returned; what did I see? the dear old man with his legs and arms all in the air! Look, M. Rudolph!" said Anastasia, opening the door of the room, "is not that a sight to break one's heart?"
Lamentable spectacle! With his enormous hat still on his head, even further on than usual, for the questionable _castor,_ pushed down, no doubt, by violence, if we may judge by a transverse gap, covered Pipelet's eyes, who was on his back on the floor, at the foot of his bed.
The fainting was over, and Alfred was beginning to make some slight movements with his hands, as though he wished to repulse some one or some thing; and then he tried to remove his troublesome visor.
"He kicks! that is a good sign; he recovers!" cried the portress--and stooping down, she bawled in his ears: "What is the matter with my Alfred? It is his 'Stasie who is here. How are you now? They are coming to bring you some absinthe; that will put you to rights." Then, a.s.suming a caressing tone of voice, she added: "Have they abused you, killed you, my dear old darling--eh?"
Alfred sighed deeply, and with a groan uttered a fatal word: "_Cabrion!_" His trembling hands seemed as though desirous of repulsing a frightful vision.
"Cabrion! that devil of a painter again!" exclaimed Mrs. Pipelet.
"Alfred all night dreamed so much about him, that he kicked me dreadfully. That monster is his nightmare! Not only has he poisoned his days, but his nights also; he persecutes him even in his sleep-- yes, sir, as though Alfred was a malefactor, and this Cabrion, whom may the devil confound! is his remorseless enemy."
Rudolph smiled, as he foresaw some new trick on the part of Miss Dimpleton's former neighbor.