“Take that, boy,” said he. “If you are an apprentice, I am a master; and here are two lads, about your age, who live with me, to learn their trade. If you have nothing better to do, come and sup with me to-night—you shall be made welcome.”
I shook hands with him, and accepted his kind offer. The French, at the dawn of the Revolution, were a nation of brothers.
As the clock struck five, we threw down our tools, gave ourselves a wash in the Seine; after which we crossed over to the other side of the river, and entered the Rue St. Honoré.
The master and I had walked side by side all the way, the two apprentices following behind.
He asked me some questions about our department, what political opinions we had, and whether I knew any one in Paris.
I answered all his questions with becoming modesty.
My companion stopped at the commencement of the Rue St. Honoré, on the left-hand side, opposite a church, which I discovered later on to be the Church of Assumption.
“We have arrived,” said he; “I will go first, to show you the way.”
He passed down a passage, at the extremity of which I perceived a light.