“My name is Dorfeuil, monsieur; I am most anxious that you should know to whom you have restored life and honor.”
Auguste escaped from the old man’s thanks and finally left that abode whither he had carried joy and repose. He went down the five flights in high spirits, and better pleased with himself than he had ever been.
“There are two people whom I have rescued from despair,” he said to himself; “and all I have to do is to imagine that Destival carried off another three thousand francs.”
Returning to his fifth floor apartment, Auguste went to bed and did not wake until the morning had far advanced.
“It seems to me, lieutenant, that you slept rather well in your new lodgings?” said Bertrand as he entered Auguste’s room.
“I really believe that I never slept so well on the first floor.”
But the ex-corporal was amazed to see that his master did not once go to the window, and at the end of the day he expressed his surprise.
“Don’t you like our view any more, lieutenant?”
“No, my friend, I have reflected, and I think that it’s a risky thing to look into other people’s rooms.”
“But I should say that you saw some very pretty little things, didn’t you, lieutenant?”