seem to be taking the bread out of anybody else's mouth.
You owe your position to Blondet and Vignon; they think that you have a
future before you. So keep out of scrapes, and, above all things, be on
your guard against your friends. As for me, we shall always get on
well together, you and I. Help me, and I will help you. You have forty
francs' worth of boxes and tickets to sell, and sixty francs' worth of
books to convert into cash. With that and your work on the paper, you
will be making four hundred and fifty francs every month. If you use
your wits, you will find ways of making another two hundred francs
at least among the publishers; they will pay you for reviews and
prospectuses. But you are mine, are you not? I can count upon you."

Lucien squeezed Finot's hand in transports of joy which no words can
express.

"Don't let any one see that anything has passed between us," said Finot
in his ear, and he flung open a door of a room in the roof at the end of
a long passage on the fifth floor.

A table covered with a green cloth was drawn up to a blazing fire,
and seated in various chairs and lounges Lucien discovered Lousteau,
Felicien Vernou, Hector Merlin, and two others unknown to him, all
laughing or smoking. A real inkstand, full of ink this time, stood on
the table among a great litter of papers; while a collection of pens,
the worse for wear, but still serviceable for journalists, told the new
contributor very plainly that the mighty enterprise was carried on in
this apartment.

"Gentlemen," said Finot, "the object of this gathering is the
installation of our friend Lousteau in my place as editor of the
newspaper which I am compelled to relinquish. But although my opinions
will necessarily undergo a transformation when I accept the editorship
of a review of which the politics are known to you, my _convictions_
remain the same, and we shall be friends as before. I am quite at
your service, and you likewise will be ready to do anything for me.
Circumstances change; principles are fixed. Principles are the pivot on
which the hands of the political barometer turn."

There was an instant shout of laughter.

"Who put that into your mouth?" asked Lousteau.

"Blondet!" said Finot.

"Windy, showery, stormy, settled fair," said Merlin; "we will all row in
the same boat."

"In short," continued Finot, "not to muddle our wits with metaphors,
any one who has an article or two for me will always find Finot.--This