pretty good fellows, and very clever. Come and see me to-morrow at the
newspaper office; by that time I shall have said a word for you to my
nephew. Before long you'll have a place on some journal or other.
Mariette, who is taking you at this moment (don't deceive yourself)
because she literally has nothing, no engagement, no chance of
appearing on the stage, and I have told her that you are going on a
newspaper like myself,--Mariette will try to make you believe she is
loving you for yourself; and you will believe her! Do as I do,--keep
her as long as you can. I was so much in love with Florentine that I
begged Finot to write her up and help her to a debut; but my nephew
replied, 'You say she has talent; well, the day after her first
appearance she will turn her back on you.' Oh, that's Finot all over!
You'll find him a knowing one."

The next day, about four o'clock, Philippe went to the rue de Sentier,
where he found Giroudeau in the entresol,--caged like a wild beast in
a sort of hen-coop with a sliding panel; in which was a little stove,
a little table, two little chairs, and some little logs of wood. This
establishment bore the magic words, SUBSCRIPTION OFFICE, painted on
the door in black letters, and the word "Cashier," written by hand and
fastened to the grating of the cage. Along the wall that lay opposite
to the cage, was a bench, where, at this moment, a one-armed man was
breakfasting, who was called Coloquinte by Giroudeau, doubtless from
the Egyptian colors of his skin.

"A pretty hole!" exclaimed Philippe, looking round the room. "In the
name of thunder! what are you doing here, you who charged with poor
Colonel Chabert at Eylau? You--a gallant officer!"

"Well, yes! broum! broum!--a gallant officer keeping the accounts of a