The latter, auguring well from the polite behaviour of the magistrate, said to him:
"You are going to see a family in a state of deep misery, sir. I do not know what fresh stroke of ill fortune threatens this unhappy artisan, but he has been cruelly tried last night,—one of his daughters, worn down by illness, is dead before his eyes,—dead from cold and misery."
"Is it possible?"
"It is, indeed, the fact, mon commissaire," said Madame Pipelet. "But for this gentleman who speaks to you, and who is a king of lodgers, for he has saved poor Morel from prison by his generosity, the whole family of the lapidary must have died of hunger."
The commissary looked at Rodolph with equal surprise and interest.
"Nothing is more easily explained, sir," said Rodolph. "A person who is very charitable, learning that Morel, whose honour and honesty I will guarantee to you, was in a most deplorable and unmerited state of distress, authorised me to pay a bill of exchange for which the bailiffs were about to drag off to prison this poor workman, the sole support of his numerous family."
The magistrate, in his turn, struck by the noble physiognomy of Rodolph, as well as the dignity of his manners, replied:
"I have no doubt of Morel's probity. I only regret I have to fulfil a painful duty in your presence, sir, who have so deeply interested yourself in this family."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"From the services you have rendered to the Morels, and your language, I see, sir, that you are a worthy person. Having, besides, no reason for concealing the object of the warrant which I have to execute, I will confess to you that I am about to apprehend Louise Morel, the lapidary's daughter."