Rousseau had already gone a little way when he came back again.
"By the bye, talk to him about whatever you like, but don't run down Mélesville to him."
"Why ever do you suppose I should say anything against Mélesville? I think nothing but good of him."
"Oh, you callow lad! Don't you know that in the literary arena it is of those one thinks the best that one says the worst things?"
"No, I did not know.... But why must one not speak ill of Mélesville to Porcher?"
"Some day when I have time I will tell you."
And Rousseau nodded amicably to me, and, with a wave of his hand, went off jingling his 250 francs, leaving me to puzzle as to why I might not run down Mélesville to Porcher.
I did not wait till the usual closing hour, but ran home gleefully with the good news to my mother. I did not, however, mention the offer Rousseau had made me. That evening, after making up my second mail-bag, I went to the café de l'Ambigu and asked for M. Porcher. He was pointed out to me playing a game of dominoes. I went up to him, and he probably knew who I was, for he got up.
"I am the young man Rousseau spoke about," I said to him.
"I am at your service, monsieur. Are you in a hurry, or will you allow me to finish my game of dominoes?"