For the completion of M. de Bergerac’s ponderous work, it was necessary that certain rare manuscripts in the Imperial Library of Paris should be examined, and for the examination of these Mr. Thorburn’s daily increasing knowledge of Sanscrit rendered him fairly competent. For the exile, Paris was a forbidden city, but to this young man, recommended by Mr. Jerningham, the Imperial Library would be open. M. de Bergerac had long meditated asking this favour of his secretary, and had watched the young student’s progress in the Oriental dialects with impatient longing. The time had now arrived when he felt that Eustace was qualified to undertake the required work, and he took an early opportunity of sounding him upon the subject. “There is work for some months,” he said; “but Paris is at all times a pleasant city, and I do not think you would be tired of a residence there. I can give you introductions to agreeable people, who will receive my friend with all kindness. You can find some airy apartment near the library, and take your life easily. Your limited means will secure you from the temptations and dissipations of the capital, but not deprive you of its simpler pleasures.” “My dear sir, you are all goodness. I shall be only too happy to work for you in Paris, and on the most moderate terms. I have no wish for pleasure. Life is so short, and art so long; and I have such an impatient desire to succeed in the only career that is open to me.” “It is a noble impatience, and I will not stand in your way; give me four hours a day of such work as you have given me here, and the rest of your time will be your own.” After this interview there was nothing to hinder Mr. Thorburn’s departure. He waited only for his employer’s instructions, and his familiarity with all the details of the work made these instructions very easy to him; while frequent correspondence with his patron would enable him to work in perfect harmony with the author of the great book. Within a week of his perusal of his father’s book, he bade his friends at Greenlands farewell, and started for London _en route_ for Paris, provided with a letter from Mr. Jerningham to the chiefs of the British Embassy, which would insure his free use of the Imperial Library. Helen’s face told him that she was sorry to lose her friend and instructor. But the depth of that sorrow he could not fathom. “Papa says it is likely you will be away three or four months,” she said. “How much of my Greek I shall lose in that time! Papa never can find time for me to read to him now; and you will forget your piano-forte music, for I don’t suppose you will take the trouble to practise in Paris. And I shall have no one to play the basses of my overtures.” Eustace murmured something to the effect that for him the cessation of those basses would be desolation and despair, but more than such vague protestations he dared not trust himself to utter.