huge nose like a pothook, high, massive shoulders, enormous,
well-shaped hands, a general impression of uncouthness combined
with vigour and geniality. He thought for a moment where this
strange monster could have come from; then he shouted: "Garneret!"

Instantly his memory flew back to the court-yard and class-rooms
of the school in the _Rue d'Assas_, and he saw a heavily built
lad, for ever under punishment, standing out face to the wall
during playtime, getting and giving mighty fisticuffs, a terrible
fellow for plain speaking and hard hitting, industrious, yet a
thorn in the side of masters, always in ill-luck, yet ever and
anon electrifying the class with some stroke of genius.

He was glad enough to see his old school-fellow again, who struck
him as looking almost old with his puckered lids and heavy features.
They set off arm in arm along the deserted _Quai_, and to the
accompaniment of the faint lapping of the water against the retaining
walls, told each other the history of their past--which was succinct
enough, their present ideas, and their hopes for the future--which
were boundless.

The same ill-luck still pursued Garneret; from morn to eve he
was engaged on prodigiously laborious hack-work for a map-maker,
who paid him the wages of one of his office boys; but his big
head was crammed with projects. He was working at philosophy
and getting up before the sun to make experiments on the
susceptibility to light of the invertebrates; by way of studying
English and politics at the same time, he was translating Mr.
Disraeli's speeches; then every Sunday he accompanied Monsieur
Hébert's pupils on their geological excursions in the environs of