Godefroid turned toward the square of the rue de l’Ouest, walking slowly, for the anxiety depicted on the face of the tall old man made him think that he would follow him and come to an explanation.  And, in fact, after an instant’s hesitation Monsieur Bernard turned round and retraced his steps so as to overtake Godefroid.

“The old villain! he’ll prevent him from returning,” thought Madame Vauthier; “that’s the second time he has played me the same trick.  Patience! patience! five days hence he owes his rent, and if he doesn’t pay sharp up I’ll turn him out.  Monsieur Barbet is a kind of a tiger one mustn’t offend, and—­But I would like to know what he’s telling him.  Felicite!  Felicite, you great gawk! where are you?” cried the widow in her rasping, brutal voice,—­she had been using her dulcet tones to Godefroid.

The servant-girl, stout, squint-eyed, and red-haired, ran out.

“Keep your eye on things, do you hear me?  I shall be back in five minutes.”

And Madame Vauthier, formerly cook to the publisher Barbet, one of the hardest lenders of money by the week, slipped along behind her two tenants so as to be able to overtake Godefroid as soon as his conversation with Monsieur Bernard came to an end.

Monsieur Bernard walked slowly, like a man who is undecided, or like a debtor seeking for excuses to placate a creditor who has just left him with threats.  Godefroid, though some distance in front, saw him while pretending to look about and examine the locality.  It was not, therefore, till they reached the middle of the great alley of the garden of the Luxembourg that Monsieur Bernard came up to the young man.

“Pardon me, monsieur,” said Monsieur Bernard, bowing to Godefroid, who returned his bow.  “A thousand pardons for stopping you without having the honor of your acquaintance; but is it really your intention to take lodgings in that horrible house you have just left?”

“But, monsieur—­”

“Yes, yes,” said the old man, interrupting Godefroid, with a gesture of authority.  “I know that you may well ask me by what right I meddle in your affairs and presume to question you.  Hear me, monsieur; you are young and I am old; I am older than my years, and they are sixty-seven; people take me for eighty.  Age and misfortunes justify many things; but I will not make a plea of my whitened head; I wish to speak of yourself.  Do you know that this quarter in which you propose to live is deserted by eight o’clock at night, and the roads are full of dangers, the least of which is robbery?  Have you noticed those wide spaces not yet built upon, these fields, these gardens?  You may tell me that I live here; but, monsieur, I never go out after six o’clock.  You may also remind me of the two young men on the second floor, above the apartment you are going to take.  But, monsieur, those two poor men of letters are pursued by creditors.  They are in hiding; they are away in the daytime and only return at night; they have no reason to fear robbers or assassins; besides, they always go together and are armed.  I myself obtained permission from the prefecture of police that they should carry arms.”