felt.  I took Godeschal from Derville, where he was only just made second clerk.  He gets a thousand francs a year from me, and food and lodging.  But he’s worth it; he is indefatigable.  I love him, that fellow!  He has managed to live, as I did when a clerk, on six hundred francs a year.  What I care for above all is honesty, spotless integrity; and when it is practised in such poverty as that, a man’s a man.  For the slightest fault of that kind a clerk leaves my office.”

“The lad is in a good school,” thought Moreau.

For two whole years Oscar lived in the rue de Bethisy, a den of pettifogging; for if ever that superannuated expression was applicable to a lawyer’s office, it was so in this case.  Under this supervision, both petty and able, he was kept to his regular hours and to his work with such rigidity that his life in the midst of Paris was that of a monk.

At five in the morning, in all weathers, Godeschal woke up.  He went down with Oscar to the office, where they always found their master up and working.  Oscar then did the errands of the office and prepared his lessons for the law-school,—­and prepared them elaborately; for Godeschal, and frequently Desroches himself, pointed out to their pupil authors to be looked through and difficulties to overcome.  He was not allowed to leave a single section of the Code until he had thoroughly mastered it to the satisfaction of his chief and Godeschal, who put him through preliminary examinations more searching and longer than those of the law-school.  On his return from his classes, where he was kept but a short time, he went to his work in the office; occasionally he was sent to the Palais, but always under the thumb of the rigid Godeschal, till dinner.  The dinner was that of his master, —­one dish of meat, one of vegetables, and a salad.  The dessert consisted of a piece of Gruyere cheese.  After dinner, Godeschal and Oscar returned to the office and worked till night.  Once a month Oscar went to breakfast with his uncle Cardot, and he spent the Sundays with his mother.  From time to time Moreau, when he came to the office about his own affairs, would take Oscar to dine in the Palais-Royal, and to some theatre in the evening.  Oscar had been so snubbed by Godeschal and by Desroches for his attempts at elegance that he no longer gave a thought to his clothes.

“A good clerk,” Godeschal told him, “should have two black coats, one new, one old, a pair of black trousers, black stockings, and shoes.  Boots cost too much.  You can’t have boots till you are called to the bar.  A clerk should never spend more than seven hundred francs a year.  Good stout shirts of strong linen are what you want.  Ha! when a man starts from nothing to reach fortune, he has to keep down to bare necessities.  Look at Monsieur Desroches; he did what we are doing, and see where he is now.”