such misery, and it is quite out of our power to help them, why
let them go and be miserable elsewhere; it will be a heartache the less
for us all."

"But, if they are turned out from here, where will they go to?"

"Truly, I don't know."

"And how much can this poor workman earn daily when in health, and
without any calls upon his time or attention?"

"Why, if he had not to attend to his old mother, nurse his sick wife,
and look after the five children, he could earn his three or four francs
a day, because he works like a downright slave; but now that at least
three-quarters of his time are taken up with the family, he can hardly
manage to earn forty sous."

"That is little, indeed,--poor creatures!"

"Yes, it is easy to say poor creatures, but there are so many equally
poor creatures, that, as we can do nothing for them, it is no use to
worry ourselves about it,--is it, Alfred? And, talking of consoling
ourselves, there stands the cassia, and we have never thought of tasting
it."

"To tell you the truth, Madame Pipelet, after what I have just heard I
have no inclination to partake of it. You and M. Pipelet must drink my
health in it when I am gone."

"You are extremely kind, sir," said the porter; "but will you not like
to see the rooms up-stairs?"

"I shall be glad to do so, if perfectly convenient; and, if they suit, I
will engage them at once and leave a deposit."

The porter, followed by Rodolph, emerged from the gloomy lodge, and
proceeded up-stairs.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE FOUR STORIES.

The damp, dark staircase looked still more gloomy through the fog of a
November day. The entrance to each separate set of apartments in this
house bore its own peculiar and distinctive character to the observant
eye. Thus, the door conducting to those of the commandant bore evidences
of having been recently painted in close imitation of ebony, being
further set off with a brass knob rubbed up to a most dazzling
brightness, while a gay-coloured bell-rope, finished by an enormous
tassel of scarlet silk, contrasted strongly with the mean and shabby
wall against which it hung.

The door of the flight above, where dwelt the female money-lender and
dealer in divination, was singularly characterised by the appearance of
that mystical symbol of deep wisdom and oracular knowledge, an owl,
which, stuffed to resemble life as closely as the artist could contrive
it, was nailed on a small bracket just above the doorway;