"And how did you know that he had gone to Germany?" asked Rigolette.
"By a friend of my prince of lodgers. Apropos of this dear man, do you not know that, thanks to his good recommendations, Alfred is appointed porter of a Pawn Office and Bank for the Poor, established in our house by a good soul that I cannot help thinking must be the person for whom M. Rudolph was the traveling clerk in good actions!"
"That happens very well," said Rigolette: "my husband is the director of this bank, for which he is also indebted to the recommendation of M. Rudolph."
"Hooraw!" cried Madame Pipelet, gayly; "so much the better; so much the better! old faces are preferable to new ones. But to return to Cabrion: just imagine, that a tall bald gentleman, on coming to inform us of Alfred's appointment as porter, asked us if a painter of much talent, named Cabrion had not lived with us. At the name of Cabrion, there was my old darling lifting his boot in the air, and already half dead. Happily, the great fat bald man added, 'This young painter is about to start for Germany; a wealthy person sends him there for some work which will employ him for several years; perhaps he may always remain there.' As a proof of what he had said, the individual gave to my old darling the date of the intended departure of Cabrion and the address of the stage-coach office, and I had the unhoped-for happiness to read on the register, 'M. Cabrion, painter, leaves for Strasbourg.' The departure was fixed for this morning."
"I went to the office with my wife."
"We saw the knave mount on the imperial, alongside of the conductor."
"And just at the moment the diligence started, Cabrion perceived me, recognized me, turned round, and cried, 'I go forever—yours for life!' Happily, the trumpet of the conductor almost drowned these last words and the indecent familiarity of his address, which I despise; for, at last, Heaven be praised, he is gone."
"And gone forever, believe it, M. Pipelet," said Rigolette, restraining a violent desire to laugh. "But what you do not know, and what will astonish you very much is, that M. Rudolph was—"
"Well?"
"A prince in disguise—a royal highness."