21Dr. Hortebise had for some time back given up arguing with Mascarin asto the advice the latter gave him. He had been ordered not to let Paulout of his sight, and he obeyed this command literally. He had takenhim to dine at M. Martin Rigal's, though the host himself was absent;from there he took Paul to his club, and finally wound up by forcingthe young man to accept a bed at his house. They both slept late, andwere sitting down to a luxurious breakfast, when the servant announcedM. Tantaine, and that worthy man made his appearance with the samesmile upon his face which Paul remembered so well in the Hotel dePerou. The sight of him threw the young man into a state of fury. "Atlast we meet," cried he. "I have an account to settle with you.""You have an account to settle with me?" asked Daddy Tantaine with apuzzled smile.
"Yes; was it not through you that I was accused of theft by that oldhag, Madame Loupins?"Tantaine shrugged his shoulders.
"Dear me," said he; "I thought that M. Mascarin had explainedeverything, and that you were anxious to marry Mademoiselle Flavia,and that, above all, you were a young man of intelligence and tact."Hortebise roared with laughter, and Paul, seeing his folly, blusheddeeply and remained silent.
"I regret having disturbed you, doctor," resumed Tantaine, "but I hadstrict orders to see you.""Is there anything new then?""Yes; Mademoiselle de Mussidan is out of danger, and M. de Croisenoiscan commence proceedings at once."The doctor drank off a glass of wine. "To the speedy marriage of ourdear friend the Marquis and Mademoiselle Sabine," said he gayly.
"So be it," said Tantaine; "I am also directed to beg M. Paul not toleave this house, but to send for his luggage and remain here."Hortebise looked so much annoyed that Tantaine hastened to add: "Onlyas a temporary measure, for I am on the lookout for rooms for himnow."Paul looked delighted at the idea of having a home of his own.
"Good!" exclaimed the doctor merrily. "And now, my dear Tantaine, asyou have executed all your commissions, you can stay and breakfastwith us.""Thanks for the honor; but I am very busy with affairs of the Duke deChampdoce and must see Perpignan at once." As he spoke he rose, makinga little sign which Paul did not catch, and Hortebise accompanied himto the door of the vestibule. "Don't leave that lad alone," saidTantaine; "I will see about him to-morrow; meanwhile prepare him alittle.""I comprehend," answered Hortebise; "my kind regards to that dearfellow, Perpignan."This Perpignan was well known--some people said too well known--inParis. His real name was Isidore Crocheteau, and he had started lifeas a cook in a Palais Royal restaurant. Unfortunately a breach of theEighth Commandment had caused him to suffer incarceration for a periodof three years, and on his release he bloomed out into a privateinquiry agent. His chief customers were jealous husbands, but assurely as one of these placed an affair in his hands, he would go tothe erring wife and obtain a handsome price from her for his silence.
Mascarin and Perpignan had met in an affair of this kind; and as theymutually feared each other, they had tacitly agreed not to cross eachother's path in that great wilderness of crime--Paris. But whilePerpignan knew nothing of Mascarin's schemes and operations, theformer was very well acquainted with the ex-cook's doings. He knew,for instance, that the income from the Inquiry Office would not coverPerpignan's expenses, who dressed extravagantly, kept a carriage,affected artistic tastes, played cards, betted on races, and likedgood dinners at the most expensive restaurants. "Where can he get hismoney from?" asked Mascarin of himself; and, after a long search, hesucceeded in solving the riddle.
Daddy Tantaine, after leaving the doctor's, soon arrived at theresidence of M. Perpignan, and rang the bell.
A fat woman answered the door. "M. Perpignan is out," said she.
"When will he be back?""Some time this evening.""Can you tell me where I can find him, as it is of the utmostimportance to both of us that I should see him at once?""He did not say where he was going to.""Perhaps he is at the factory," said Tantaine blandly.
The fat woman was utterly taken aback by this suggestion. "What do youknow about that?" faltered she.
"You see I /do/ know, and that is sufficient for you. Come, is hethere?""I think so.""Thank you, I will call on him then. An awfully long journey,"muttered Tantaine, as he turned away; "but, perhaps, if I catch theworthy man in the midst of all his little business affairs, he will bemore free in his language, and not so guarded in his actualadmissions."The old man went to his task with a will. He passed down the RueToumenon, skirted the Luxemburg, and made his way into the Rue GuyLussac; from thence he walked down the Rue Mouffetard, and thencedirect into one of those crooked lanes which run between the GobelinsFactory and the Hopital de l'Oursine. This is a portion of the cityutterly unknown to the greater number of Parisians. The streets arenarrow and hardly afford room for vehicles. A valley forms the centreof the place, down which runs a muddy, sluggish stream, the banks ofwhich are densely crowded with tanyards and iron works. On the oneside of this valley is the busy Rue Mouffetard, and on the other oneof the outer boulevard, while a long line of sickly-looking poplarsmark the course of the semi-stagnant stream. Tantaine seemed to knowthe quarter well, and went on until he reached the Champs desAlouettes. Then, with a sigh of satisfaction, he halted before alarge, three-storied house, standing on a piece of ground surroundedby a mouldering wooden fence. The aspect of the house had somethingsinister and gloomy about it, and for a moment Tantaine paused as ifhe could not make up his mind to enter it; but at last he did so. Theinterior was as dingy and dilapidated as the outside. There were tworooms on the ground floor, one of which was strewn with straw, with afew filthy-looking quilts and blankets spread over it. The next roomwas fitted up as a kitchen; in the centre was a long table composed ofboards placed on trestles, and a dirty-looking woman with her headenveloped in a coarse red handkerchief, and grasping a big woodenspoon, was stirring the contents of a large pot in which someterrible-looking ingredients were cooking. On a small bed in a cornerlay a little boy. Every now and then a shiver convulsed his frame, hisface was deadly pale, and his hands almost transparent, while hisgreat black eyes glittered with the wild delirium of fever. Sometimeshe would give a deep groan, and then the old beldame would turnangrily and threaten to strike him with her wooden spoon.
"But I am so ill," pleaded the boy.
"If you had brought home what you were told, you would not have beenbeaten, and then you would have had no fever," returned the womanharshly.
"Ah, me! I am sick and cold, and want to go away," wailed the chi............