"He won't return at all, thank God! I say that he is not here, which means that Maître Bourdinard has dismissed him, discharged him, kicked him out, in short; and he well deserved it!"
"Oho!—But he had a friend, whom I do not see here!"
"Oh, yes! his friend Plumard; another fine subject—a worthy pendant to Bahuchet! Those fellows fought all day long, but they became reconciled at night in order to raise the devil all over the city. But when one of the master's clients, a certain Chevalier de Passedix, came here and told him the story of an orange-colored costume that those two scamps sold him, Maître Bourdinard's eyes were opened, and he turned the two little clerks out of doors—Plumard with Bahuchet, supporting each other!"
"In that case, monsieur, please give me this Monsieur Bahuchet's address, so that I may know where to find him; I must speak with him."
"His address, young woman—the address of a Bahuchet! Do you suppose such gentry have an address? Do they live anywhere? In wine shops and gambling hells and bawdy houses—that's where they live! But, frankly, I don't advise you to go there to look for him; and if the fellow owes you money, you will do well to make a cross on it."
Unable to obtain any information concerning him she sought, Miretta returned to report to her mistress the unsatisfactory result of her visit to the solicitor's office.
"More delay!" muttered Valentine, smiling bitterly; "one would say that destiny takes pleasure in multiplying obstacles to retard what I wish to do! But nothing will tire out my perseverance.—Miretta, you must find this Bahuchet; the fellow can have no reason for hiding, for he must now be in quest of another place. Search Paris for him; disguise yourself, if necessary; conceal your pretty face beneath an ample cap, and go to those dens which Monsieur Bahuchet frequents.—Who knows? while looking for him, perhaps you will find someone in whom you are interested."
Miretta shook her head, as if to say that she had ceased to hope; but she prepared, none the less, to obey the marchioness.
L
THE APPLE-GREEN CHEVALIER
It was eleven o'clock in the morning; the weather was dry and cold; the wind was from the north; and they who were obliged to go abroad on business walked rapidly, and sometimes took the risk of running, in order to return the sooner to their homes.