He felt that he could not do it, and had he any means of existence, he would have solved the difficulty by taking to flight.  But he knew that men like Mascarin, Hortebise, and Tantaine were not easily eluded, and his heart sank within him as he remembered the various crumbs of information that each of these men had dropped before him.  To agree to their sordid proposals, and to remain in the position in which he was, was certainly to incur a risk, but it was one that was a long way off, and might never eventually come to pass; while to change his mind would be as sure to bring down swift and condign punishment upon his head; and the weak young man naturally chose the more remote contingency, and with this determination the last qualms of his conscience expired.

The first night he slept badly in his new abode, for it seemed to him as if the spectre of the man whose place he was to usurp was hovering over his couch.  But with the dawn of day, and especially when the hour arrived for him to go out and give his lessons, he felt his courage return to him, though rashness perhaps would be the more correct word.  And with a mien of perfect confidence he repaired to the house of Mademoiselle Grandorge, the oldest of his pupils.  Impelled by the same feeling of curiosity as to how Paul would comport himself, both Dr. Hortebise and Father Tantaine had been hanging about the Rue Montmartre, and taking advantage of a heavy dray that was passing, caught a good glimpse of the young man.

“Aha,” chuckled Tantaine, delighted at seeing Paul look so brisk and joyous, “our young cock is in full feather; last night he was decidedly rather nervous.”

“Yes,” answered the doctor, “he is on the right road, and I think that we shall have no further trouble with him.”

They then thought it would be as well to see Mother Brigaut, and were received by the old woman with slavish deference.

“No one has been near the dear young gentleman,” said she, in reply to their questions.  “Last night he came down about seven o’clock, and asked where the nearest eating-house was.  I directed him to Du Val’s, and he was back by eight, and by eleven I saw that he had put out his light.”

“How about to-day?”

“I went up stairs at nine, and he had just finished dressing.  He told me to get his breakfast ready, which I did.  He ate well, and I said to myself, ‘Good; the bird is getting used to its cage.’”

“And then?”

“Then he commenced singing like a very bird, the dear fellow.  His voice is as sweet as his face; any woman would fall in love with him.  I’m precious glad that my girl, Euphenice is nowhere near.”

“And after that he went out?” continued Tantaine.  “Did he say how long he would be away?”

“Only to give his lessons.  I suppose he expected that you would call.”

“Very good,” remarked the old man; then, addressing Dr. Hortebise, he said, “Perhaps, sir, you are going to the Registry Office?”