"On the contrary, he is dying to possess them; but he hasn't a son, and cannot pay me for three months."
"And you want fifty francs?"
"Indeed I do."
"You would like to have them?"
"Rather."
"Wait: perhaps we can arrange matters."
"Oh, do try, my good fellow."
"There is a very simple way: I cannot give you the fifty francs, because I have promised my tailor a hundred francs to-day; but Oudet can make a cheque out to me for fifty francs at three months, I will endorse the cheque, and I will give it to the tailor as ready money."
We went to Oudet's. Oudet made out the cheque, and I carried off the money, thanking Gondon, and above all God, who out of His infinite loving kindness had provided me the means to advance a step farther on my way. I accompanied Gondon as far as his tailor's. At the tailor's door I ran up against old Cartier.
"Well, my boy," he said, "isn't there a bit left of your dog's money to pay for a small glass of wine for your old friend?"