"It can be done," said the octogenarian.

Philippe talked about things in general, with perfect propriety. He
mentioned the journalist Lousteau, nephew of the old lady, as a "rara
avis," and won her good graces from the moment she heard him say that
the name of Lousteau would become celebrated. He did not hesitate to
admit his faults of conduct. To a friendly admonition which Madame
Hochon addressed to him in a low voice, he replied that he had
reflected deeply while in prison, and could promise that in future he
would live another life.

On a hint from Philippe, Monsieur Hochon went out with him when he
took his leave. When the miser and the soldier reached the boulevard
Baron, a place where no one could overhear them, the colonel turned to
the old man,--

"Monsieur," he said, "if you will be guided by me, we will never speak
together of matters and things, or people either, unless we are
walking in the open country, or in places where we cannot be heard.
Maitre Desroches has fully explained to me the influence of the gossip
of a little town. Therefore I don't wish you to be suspected of
advising me; though Desroches has told me to ask for your advice, and
I beg you not to be chary of giving it. We have a powerful enemy in
our front, and it won't do to neglect any precaution which may help to
defeat him. In the first place, therefore, excuse me if I do not call
upon you again. A little coldness between us will clear you of all
suspicion of influencing my conduct. When I want to consult you, I
will pass along the square at half-past nine, just as you are coming
out after breakfast. If you see me carry my cane on my shoulder, that