"'This, I Suppose, Is the Work of M. Cabrion'" Etching by Mercier, after the drawing by Frank T. Merrill

      "This chamber will exactly suit me. Here is a deposit to complete the bargain. To-morrow I will send in my furniture; but let me beg of you not to destroy the merry creatures painted on the palette at the entrance. It is really very droll! Don't you think so?"

      "Droll!" groaned poor Pipelet; "not I! Ah, sir, how would you like to dream night after night that you were being hunted by a legion of little ugly devils like these on the door, with Cabrion at their head urging them on, and then fancying you are trying to get away, and cannot? Oh, I have woke all in a perspiration from such dreams hundreds of times since that infamous Cabrion began persecuting me."

      "Why, honestly speaking, I cannot say the chase would be a very agreeable one, even though but a dream. However, tell me, have I any need to see M. Bras Rouge—your great man here—about renting this apartment?"

      "None whatever, sir. He rarely comes near the place, except when he has any private matters to arrange with Mother Burette. I am the only person to treat with about hiring apartments. I must beg the favour of your name."

      "Rodolph."

      "Rodolph what?"

      "Plain Rodolph, M. Pipelet—nothing more, if you please."

      "Just as you please, sir. I did not ask from curiosity. Every man has a right to his own free will, as well as to decide upon the name he chooses to be called."

      "What do you think, M. Pipelet, as to the propriety of my going to-morrow, as a new neighbour of Morel's, to inquire whether I can be of any service to them? Since my predecessor, M. Germain, was permitted to assist them according to his means, why should they not accept of what trifling help I can afford?"

      "Why, sir, I see no harm in your going to call on the Morels, because it may please the poor things; but I hardly see much good it can do, as they are so shortly to be turned out of the house." Then, as if suddenly struck with a new idea, M. Pipelet exclaimed, winking at Rodolph with what he intended should be a very facetious and penetrating look, "I see, I see—you mean to begin making acquaintance with the lodgers at the top of the house, that you may be able to work your way down to Mlle. Rigolette. Ah, I've found you out, you see—pretty girl—"

      "Well, I think you have discovered my intentions, so I will confess at once that I mean to try and be on friendly terms with my agreeable neighbour."

      "There is no harm in that, sir—it is customary; only all correct, all right and honourable—you understand. Between you and me, I strongly suspect Mlle. Rigolette heard us coming up-stairs, and that she is watching to have a look as we go down. I will make a noise purposely in locking the door; if you look sharp, you will see her as we pass the landing." And, true to the porter's suspicions, the door so tastefully enlivened by the fat Cupids, à la Watteau, was seen to open gently, and Rodolph had a brief view of a little, turned-up nose, and a pair of large, staring black eyes, peeping through the narrow space; but, as he slacked his steps, the door was hastily shut. "I told you she was watching us," said the porter. Then added, "Excuse me one instant, sir; I want to step up to my warehouse."

      "Where is that?"

      "At the top of this ladder is the landing-place, on which the door of Morel's garret opens, and in the wainscoting of this landing is a small dark cupboard, where I keep my leather, and the wall is so full of cracks, that when I am in this hole I can see and hear everything, the same as if I was in Morel's room. Not that I wish to spy what the poor creatures are about, God knows—quite the contrary. But please to excuse me for a few minutes, sir, whilst I fetch my bit of leather. If you will have the goodness to go down-stairs, I will rejoin you."

      And, so saying, Pipelet commenced ascending the steep ladder communicating with his warehouse, as he styled it—a somewhat perilous feat for a person of his age.

      Rodolph, thus left alone, cast another glance towards the chambers of Mlle. Rigolette, remembering with deep interest all he had heard of her being the favourite companion of the poor Goualeuse, and recalling also the information she was said to possess touching the residence of the Schoolmaster's son, when the sound of some person quitting the apartments of the quack doctor below attracted his attention, and he could distinctly hear the light step of a female, with the rustling of a silk dress. Rodolph paused till the sounds had died away, and then descended the stairs. Something white had fallen about half-way down; it had evidently been dropped by the person who had just quitted Polidori. Rodolph picked it up, and carried it to one of the narrow windows which lighted the staircase. It was a pocket-handkerchief, of the finest cambric, trimmed with costly lace, and bearing in one corner the initials "L. N." beautifully embroidered, and surmounted with a ducal coronet. The handkerchief was literally soaked in tears.

      Rodolph's first impulse was to follow the person from whose hand this mute evidence of deep woe had fallen, with the view of restoring it, but, reflecting that such a step might be mistaken for impertinent curiosity, he determined to preserve it carefully, as the first link in an adventure he found himself almost involuntarily engaged in, and from which he augured a painful and melancholy termination. As he returned to the porteress, he inquired whether a female had not just come down-stairs.

      "A female! No indeed, sir—it was a fine, tall, slender-looking lady, not a female, and covered over with a thick black veil. She has come from M. Bradamanti. Little Tortillard fetched a coach for her, and she has just driven away in it. What struck me was the impudence of that little beggar to seat himself behind the coach. I dare say, though, it was to see where the lady went to, for he is as mischievous as a magpie, and as prying as a ferret, for all his club-foot."

      "So, then," thought Rodolph, "the name and address of this unhappy lady will soon be known to this imposter, since it is, doubtless, by his directions she is followed and watched by this imp of an emissary."

      "Well, sir, and what do you think of the apartment? Will it suit you?" inquired Madame Pipelet.

      "Nothing could have suited me better. I have taken it, and to-morrow I shall send in my furniture."

      "Well, then, thank God for a good lodger! I am sure it was a lucky chance for us sent you here."

      "I hope you will find it so, madame. I think it is well understood between us that you undertake to manage all my little domestic matters for me. I shall come and superintend the removal of my goods. Adieu!"

      So saying, Rodolph left