peech and possessed a piercing eye and a
gloomy vivaciousness, terrified the unhappy Oscar.

"We work here day and night," said the lawyer, from the depths of his
armchair, and behind a table on which were papers, piled up like Alps.
"Monsieur Moreau, we won't kill him; but he'll have to go at our pace.
Monsieur Godeschal!" he called out.

Though the day was Sunday, the head-clerk appeared, pen in hand.

"Monsieur Godeschal, here's the pupil of whom I spoke to you. Monsieur
Moreau takes the liveliest interest in him. He will dine with us and
sleep in the small attic next to your chamber. You will allot the exact
time it takes to go to the law-school and back, so that he does not lose
five minutes on the way. You will see that he learns the Code and is
proficient in his classes; that is to say, after he has done his work
here, you will give him authors to read. In short, he is to be under
your immediate direction, and I shall keep an eye on it. They want to
make him what you have made yourself, a capable head-clerk, against the
time when he can take such a place himself. Go with Monsieur Godeschal,
my young friend; he'll show you your lodging, and you can settle down in
it. Did you notice Godeschal?" continued Desroches, speaking to Moreau.
"There's a fellow who, like me, has nothing. His sister Mariette, the
famous danseuse, is laying up her money to buy him a practice in ten
years. My clerks are young blades who have nothing but their ten fingers
to rely upon. So we all, my five clerks and I, work as hard as a dozen
ordinary fellows. But in ten years I'll have the finest practice in
Paris. In my office, business and clients are a passion, and that's
beginning to make itself 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