and when he is drunk, too!"

"If he was sober, madame, he probably wouldn't take the risk."

"But some day this neighbor of yours will break his neck."

"So I have often told him. The day after, when he has his window mended, he swears that it shall never happen again. The concierge has already threatened to warn him out if he doesn't enter by his door, and doesn't come home earlier."

At that moment we heard someone storming and swearing on the landing.

Monsieur Pettermann, having entered his room, had succeeded in opening his door, which was fastened only by a spring lock.

"Perhaps he wants a light," said Marguerite; "it very seldom happens that he asks me for anything; but he may have seen that we haven't gone to bed here."

We heard a knock at the door, and a hoa.r.s.e voice stuttered:

"I say, neighbor, haven't you g--g--gone to bed, n--n--neighbor? What would you s--s--say if I should ask you to l--l--light my little c--c--candle-end?"

I was curious to see neighbor Pettermann, and before Ernest had had time to drop Marguerite's hand, I opened the door.

The tailor was still young, with a frank, honest face; but the habit of drinking too much had made his nose purple and swollen, and his dress was marked by a lack of order which also betrayed his intemperance.

On seeing me, he opened his eyes and said:

"h.e.l.lo! have I made a mistake? This is funny. Ain't this my neighbor's door, or has she moved?"

"No, monsieur," said Ernest, "but don't shout so loud; she is sick. What do you want?"

"Ah! she is sick, is she, poor little woman!" And Monsieur Pettermann walked toward the bed, saying: "Are you sick, my little woman? What's the matter with you?"

Ernest stopped the tailor, who was reeking with liquor; and he, always very polite, although tipsy, fearing that he had done something wrong, stepped back to the armchair in which the midwife was seated, and sank upon her lap, saying:

"I beg pardon, that's so; it's none of my business. Ah! prout!"

"Will you get up?" cried the nurse, striking the tailor in the back. He turned about, stammering:

"Ah! I was sitting on one of the fair s.e.x, although I hadn't a suspicion of it.--Excuse me, my little woman, I didn't do it on purpose, I swear."

"Give me your candle and let me light it for you," said Ernest; "for that is what you want, I have no doubt."

"Yes, neighbor, if you would be so kind. I couldn't use my flint because I scratched my right hand a little, while getting into my room."

Not until then did we notice that the poor fellow's right hand was covered with blood, two of his fingers being badly cut. The girl pointed to a closet in which there were some rags, with which Ernest hastily bandaged the tailor's hand. He made no objection, but said:

"Oh, mon Dieu! it's nothing at all, a trifle. I don't know what was the matter to-night, but I broke two panes instead of one."

"But Monsieur Pettermann, don't you ever propose to give up your habit of going into your room through the window?"

"What would you have me do? I lose my key--these keys slip out of your pocket without your knowing it, and besides, I believe my pocket has a hole in it. But I promise you that I'll look after it now, especially as it is going to be hard for me to sew it up."

"Here's your candle."

"Many thanks. Good-night all. Better health to you, neighbor. If you ever need my services, call on me; don't hesitate."

"Thanks, thanks, Monsieur Pettermann."

"No, don't hesitate; call me; it will be a pleasure to me."

The tailor returned to his room. I thought that the young invalid must have need of rest, so I too left the room after wishing them good-night.

But I wanted to say something to Ernest alone. He escorted me downstairs with the light. When we were both in front of my door, I stopped and looked at him, and I held my peace; for I really did not know how to broach the subject.

Ernest, who did not suspect that I wished to say anything to him, wished me good-night and was about to go upstairs. I caught his arm to detain him; I felt that I must make up my mind to speak.

"Monsieur Ernest, I am delighted to have become better acquainted with you; I hope that our acquaintance will not stop here."

"I thank you, monsieur. I hope so too. I tell you again that I shall not forget your interest in my grief to-night. There are so many people who would have laughed at my distress, and who would have blamed it."

"Such people never see in love-affairs anything more than momentary pleasure; the moment any pain enters into them, they think they should be broken off."

"Ah, yes! you are quite right. But good-night, I must go."

"One moment more. I wanted to say to you--First of all, I pray you, excuse me; I trust that what I am going to say will not offend you.

Young men can afford to speak frankly. Although I am five or six years older than you, I remember very well that when I was eighteen, and was still living with my parents, I was sometimes sorely embarra.s.sed to give presents to my mistress. Now listen: your young friend has met with an accident that will entail expenses which you did not expect so soon. A young man who lives with his parents is sometimes short of money. Allow me to offer you my purse. You can repay me when you are able."

Ernest shook my hand warmly as he replied:

"I thank you for your offer, Monsieur Blemont; it does not offend me, for I do not consider it a crime to be short of money, and I will not make a pretence of being well supplied with it, for that would give you a poor idea of my heart, after seeing that poor child's bedroom. My parents are well-to-do, as you know; but they treat me very harshly, because I do not do absolutely what they would like. They think also that at my age, a young man should not want to spend money upon a mistress. Perhaps they are not wrong, after all. I a.s.sure you, however, that the privations which Marguerite and I suffer, far from lessening our love, do in fact increase it. Should we not become attached to a person in proportion to what she has suffered for our sake? Marguerite is so young and so pretty, that, if she chose, she could have wealthy lovers with whom she would enjoy all the luxuries of life; she prefers to remain poor with me. But we are not to be pitied for that, for we love each other better than money. However, this embarra.s.sment will only be temporary, I hope; I have two plays accepted, and if they are successful----"

"Then you accept my offer?"

"Oh, no! I never borrow money when I am not certain of being able to return it. That is a principle from which I shall never depart."

"But when you have plays accepted, which are going to be produced----"

"A play is never a certainty; it is a cast of the dice. I thank you a thousand times; but I have something left with which to face the present. As for the future, we will hope, we will build castles in the air."

"I am sorry that you refuse."

"And I am very glad that you have made the offer, for you are the first one of my friends to suggest anything of that sort, and yet you have been my friend for only a few hours."

"It is a fact that one often pa.s.ses his life with people to whom he gives the name of friends, but who have none of the feelings of a friend."

"Good-night, Monsieur Blemont. If you have time to come up for a moment to-morrow, we shall be glad to see you."

"Yes, I will come to enquire for my neighbor. Good-night."

Ernest went up to the fifth floor and I went into my room.