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By Root 1012 0

himself. To be between two religions, one which you have not yet abandoned, and another which you have not yet adopted, is unbearable; and twilight is pleasant only to bat-like souls. Marius was an open eye, and he needed the true light. To him the dusk of doubt was harmful. Whatever might be his desire to stop where he was, and to hold fast there, he was irresistibly compelled to continue, to advance, to examine, to think, to go forward. Where was that going to lead him? he feared, after having taken so many steps which had brought him nearer to his father, to take now any steps which should separate them. His dejection increased with every reflection which occurred to him. Steep cliffs rose about him. He was on good terms neither with his grandfather nor with his friends; rash towards the former, backward towards the others; and he felt doubly isolated, from old age, and also from youth. He went no more to the Café Musain.

In this agitation in which his mind was plunged he scarcely gave a thought to certain serious matters of existence. The realities of life do not allow themselves to be forgotten. They came and jogged his memory sharply.

One morning, the manager of the lodging house entered Marius’ room, and said to him:

“Monsieur Courfeyrac is responsible for you.”

“Yes.”

“But I am in need of money.”

“Ask Courfeyrac to come and speak with me,” said Marius.

Courfeyrac came; the host left them. Marius related to him what he had not thought of telling him before, that he was, so to speak, alone in the world, without any relatives.

“What are you going to become?” said Courfeyrac.

“I have no idea,” answered Marius.

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea.”

“Have you any money?”

“Fifteen francs.”

“Do you wish me to lend you some?”

“Never.”

“Have you any clothes?”

“What you see.”

“Have you any jewellery?”

“A watch.”

“A silver one?”

“Gold, here it is.”

“I know a dealer in clothing who will take your overcoat and one pair of trousers.”

“That is good.”

“You will then have but one pair of trousers, one waistcoat, one hat, and one coat.”

“And my boots.”

“What? you will not go barefoot? what opulence!”

“That will be enough.”

“I know a watchmaker who will buy your watch.”

“That is good.”

“No, it is not good. What will you do afterwards?”

“What I must. Anything honourable at least.”

“Do you know English?”

“No.”

“Do you know German?”

“No.”

“That is bad.”

“Why?”

“Because a friend of mine, a bookseller, is making a sort of encyclopædia, for which you could have translated German or English articles. It doesn’t pay well, but you can live on it.”

“I will learn English and German.”

“And in the meantime?”

“In the meantime I will eat my coats and my watch.”

The clothes dealer was sent for. He gave twenty francs for the clothes. They went to the watchmaker. He gave forty-five francs for the watch.

“That is not bad,” said Marius to Courfeyrac, on returning to the house; “with my fifteen francs, this makes eighty francs.”

“The hotel bill?” observed Courfeyrac.

“Ah! I forgot,” said Marius.

The host presented his bill, which had to be paid on the spot. It amounted to seventy francs.

“I have ten francs left,” said Marius.

“The devil,” said Courfeyrac, “you will have five francs to eat while you are learning English, and five francs while you are learning German. That will be swallowing a language very rapidly or a hundred-sous coin very slowly.”

Meanwhile Aunt Gillenormand, who was really a kind person on sad occasions, had finally unearthed Marius’ lodgings.

One morning when Marius came home from the school, he found a letter from his aunt, and the sixty pistoles, that is to say, six hundred francs in gold, in a sealed box.

Marius sent the thirty louis back to his aunt, with a respectful letter, in which he told her that he had enough to live on, and that he could provide henceforth for all his necessities. At that time he had three francs left.

The aunt did not inform the grandfather of this refusal, lest she should exasperate him. Indeed, had he not said: “Let nobody ever speak to me of