pener--she will not know what has become of me. The theatre
opens at a quarter to six, you know."

"Yes, I know... but remember dat I am alone in die earth, dat I haf
no friend. You dat haf shed a tear for Bons enliden me; I am in teep
tarkness, und Bons said dat I vas in der midst of shcoundrels."

"I have seen that plainly already; I have just prevented them from
sending you to Clichy."

"_Gligy!_" repeated Schmucke; "I do not understand."

"Poor man! Well, never mind, I will come to you. Good-bye."

"Goot-bye; komm again soon," said Schmucke, dropping half-dead with
weariness.

"Good-bye, mosieu," said Mme. Sauvage, and there was something in her
tone that struck Topinard.

"Oh, come, what is the matter now?" he asked, banteringly. "You are
attitudinizing like a traitor in a melodrama."

"Traitor yourself! Why have you come meddling here? Do you want to have
a hand in the master's affairs, and swindle him, eh?"

"Swindle him!... Your very humble servant!" Topinard answered with
superb disdain. "I am only a poor super at a theatre, but I am something
of an artist, and you may as well know that I never asked anything of
anybody yet! Who asked anything of you? Who owes you anything? eh, old
lady!"

"You are employed at a theatre, and your name is--?"

"Topinard, at your service."

"Kind regards to all at home," said La Sauvage, "and my compliments to
your missus, if you are married, mister.... That was all I wanted to
know."

"Why, what is the matter, dear?" asked Mme. Cantinet, coming out.

"This, child--stop here and look after the dinner while I run round to
speak to monsieur."

"He is down below, talking with poor Mme. Cibot, that is crying her eyes
out," said Mme. Cantinet.

La Sauvage dashed down in such headlong haste that the stairs trembled
beneath her tread.

"Monsieur!" she called, and drew him aside a few paces to point out
Topinard.

Topinard was just going away, proud at heart to have made some return
already to the man who had done him so many kindnesses. He had saved
Pons' friend from a trap, by a stratagem from that world behind the
scenes in which every one has more or less ready wit. And within himself
he vowed to protect a musician in his orchestra from future snares set
for his simple sincerity.

"Do you see that little wretch?" said La Sauvage. "He is a kind of
honest man that has a mind to poke his nose into M. Schmucke's affairs."

"Who is he?" asked Fraisier.

"Oh! h