"Make yourself easy, neighbour, I will forget nothing; I have an excellent memory. But, when we talk of goodness, it is you who are so good and kind. If any one is in trouble, then you come directly."
"I have told you, my good little neighbour, that I am but a poor clerk; but when I meet with good persons who deserve protection, I instantly tell a benevolent individual who has entire confidence in me, and they are helped at once. That's all I do in the matter."
"And where are you lodging, now you have given up your chamber to the Morels?"
"I live in a furnished lodging."
"Oh, how I should hate that! To be where all the world has been before you, it is as if everybody had been in your place."
"I am only there at nights, and then—"
"I understand,—it is less disagreeable. Yet I shouldn't like it, M. Rodolph. My home made me so happy, I had got into such a quiet way of living, that I did not think it was possible I should ever know a sorrow. And yet, you see—But no, I cannot describe to you the blow which Germain's misfortune has brought upon me. I have seen the Morels, and others beside, who were very much to be pitied certainly. But, at best, misery is misery; and amongst poor folk, who look for it, it does not surprise them, and they help one another as well as they can. To-day it is one, to-morrow it is another. As for oneself, what with courage and good spirit, one extricates oneself. But to see a poor young man, honest and good, who has been your friend for a long time,—to see him accused of robbery, and imprisoned and huddled up with criminals!—ah, really, M. Rodolph, I cannot get over that; it is a misfortune I had never thought of, and it quite upsets me."
"Courage, courage! Your spirits will return when your friend is acquitted."
"Oh, yes, he must be acquitted. The judges have only to read his letter to me, and that would be enough,—would it not, M. Rodolph?"
"Really, this letter has all the appearance of truth. You must let me have a copy of it, for it will be necessary for Germain's defence."