Arnoux entered.
"Just one word. Yesterday I got a lovely trout from Geneva. We expect you by-and-by—at seven o'clock sharp. The address is the Rue de Choiseul 24 bis. Don't forget!"
Frederick was obliged to sit down; his knees were tottering under him. He repeated to himself, "At last! at last!" Then he wrote to his tailor, to his hatter, and to his bootmaker; and he despatched these three notes by three different messengers.
The key turned in the lock, and the door-keeper appeared with a trunk on his shoulder.
Frederick, on seeing Deslauriers, began to tremble like an adulteress under the glance of her husband.
"What has happened to you?" said Deslauriers. "Surely you got my letter?"
Frederick had not enough energy left to lie. He opened his arms, and flung himself on his friend's breast.
Then the clerk told his story. His father thought to avoid giving an account of the expense of tutelage, fancying that the period limited for rendering such accounts was ten years; but, well up in legal procedure, Deslauriers had managed to get the share coming to him from his mother into his clutches—seven thousand francs clear—which he had there with him in an old pocket-book.
"'Tis a reserve fund, in case of misfortune. I must think over the best way of investing it, and find quarters for myself to-morrow morning. To-day I'm perfectly free, and am entirely at your service, my old friend."
"Oh! don't put yourself about," said Frederick. "If you had anything of importance to do this evening——"