About half an hour afterward he heard some one knock at the door, and the porter entered.
"What do you want?" asked Louis.
"I am sorry to disturb you at such a time, monsieur, but the coachman—"
"What coachman?" asked Louis, who in his grief had forgotten all about the carriage.
"Why, the coachman you kept all night. He says you promised him twenty francs drink money, which, with his charge for yesterday afternoon and last night, makes forty-nine francs in all that you owe him, and he wants his money."
"Pay him and let him go!" responded the young man, with sorrowful impatience.
"But forty-nine francs is a large sum of money, and I haven't that much, M. Louis."
"Good Heavens! what is to be done?" exclaimed Louis, suddenly aroused by this demand of the material interests of life. "I have no money, either."
And he spoke the truth, for he had never had at his disposal one-fourth of the amount that he owed the coachman.
"Then why did you keep the carriage so long, and above all, why did you promise the driver such a large pourboire? You must be mad! What are you going to do? Hadn't you better see if there is any money in your father's desk?"