Rodolph readily obeyed the directions of Rigolette. First he took from the bed a large plaid shawl, which he placed with all imaginable care on the well-formed shoulders of Rigolette.
"That will do, neighbour. Now, lift up my collar, and press the shawl and dress together; then stick in the pin; but pray try not to prick me with it."
The prince executed the orders given with zealous accuracy; then observed, smilingly, to the grisette:
"Ah, Mlle. Rigolette, I should not like to be your femme de chambre; there is danger in it!"
"Yes, I know," answered Rigolette gaily; "there is great danger for me of having a pin run in by your awkwardness. But now," added she, after they had left the room, and carefully locked the door after them, "take my key; it is so large, I always expect it will burst my pocket; it is as large as a pistol," and here the light-hearted girl laughed merrily at her own conceit.
Rodolph accordingly "took charge" (that is the prescribed form of speech) of an enormous key, which might well have figured in one of those allegorical devices in which the vanquished are represented as humbly offering the keys of their lost cities to the conquerors. Although Rodolph believed himself too much changed by years to run any risk of being recognised by Polidori, he still deemed it prudent to draw up the collar of his paletot as he passed by the door of the apartments belonging to the quack, Bradamanti.
"Neighbour," said Rigolette, "don't forget to tell M. Pipelet that you are about to send in some things which are to be carried at once up to your chamber."
"You are right, my good friend; let us step into the porter's lodge for an instant."
M. Pipelet, with his everlasting bell-shaped hat on his head, dressed, as usual, in the accustomed green coat, and seated before a table covered with scraps of leather and fragments of boots and shoes, was occupied in fixing a new sole on a boot, his whole look and manner impressed with the same deeply meditative air which characterised his usual proceedings. Anastasie was just then absent from the lodge.
"Well, M. Pipelet," said Rigolette, "I hope you will be pleased to hear the good news. Thanks to my good neighbour here, the poor Morels have got out of trouble. La! when one thinks of that poor man being taken off to prison—oh, those bailiffs have no hearts!"