this letter to its address instantly.
There's no answer, but it is in great haste."

"In a quarter of an hour he will be on his way thither, madame."

"He must make great haste."

"He shall, be assured."

The servant went away.

"Is she the maid of one of your lodgers, Father Micou?"

"She is the _bonne_ of my independent lady, Madame Saint-Ildefonse. But
M. Badinot is her uncle; he came from the country yesterday," said the
respectable Micou, who was looking at the letter, and then added,
reading the address, "Look, now, what grand acquaintances! Why, I told
you they were high folks; he writes to a viscount."

"Oh, bah!"

"See here, then, 'To Monsieur the Vicomte de Saint-Remy, Rue de
Chaillot. In great haste. Private.' I hope, when we lodge independent
persons who have uncles who write to viscounts, we may allow some few of
our other lodgers higher up in the house to be without passports, eh?"

"I believe you. Well, then, Father Micou, we shall soon be back. I shall
fasten my dog and cart to your door, and carry what I have; so be ready
with the goods and the money, so that I may cut at once."

"I'll be ready. Four good iron plates, each two feet square, three bars
of iron two feet long, and two hinges for your valve. This valve seems
very odd to me; but it's no affair of mine. Is that all?"

"Yes, and my money?"

"Oh, you shall have your money. But now I look at you in the light--now
I get a good view of you--"

"Well?"

"I don't know--but you seem as if something was the matter."

"I do?"

"Yes."

"Oh, nonsense! If anything ails me it is that I'm hungry."

"You're hungry? Like enough; but it rather looks as if you wanted to
appear very lively, whilst all the while there's something that worries
you; and it must be _something_, for it ain't a trifle that puts you
out."

"I tell you you're mistaken, Father Micou," said Nicholas, shuddering.

"Why, you quite tremble!"

"It's my arm that pains me."

"Well, don't forget my prescription, that will cure you."

"Thank ye, I'll soon be back." And the ruffian went on his way.

The receiver, after having concealed the lumps of copper behind his
counter, occupied himself in collecting the various things which
Nicholas had requested, when another individual entered his shop. It was
a man about fifty years of age, with a keen, sagacious face, a thick
pair of gray whiskers, and gold spectacles. He was extremely well
dressed; the wide sleeves of his