"You forgive me, then?" murmured Ballangier. "I was drunk, you see; I had been drinking; if it hadn't been for that, I wouldn't have spoken to you. I should have remembered that one time a scene almost like this broke off a marriage you had in view.--But you punished me, and you did right; I deserved it. Still, you know, I am little used to such lessons from you. _Dame!_ when you threw me down, that sobered me off in an instant. You were in such a rage with me--and you've always been so good-natured before. But you did well; yes, you did well to treat me like that, for it shook me all up. I realized that I was a great scamp, a miserable wretch; that I was always on hand to do you a bad turn, to put you to shame; although I didn't say--no, it don't make any difference how drunk I may be, I'll never say that thing. But I promise you that this will be the last. You'll never have any reason to complain of me again." "I believe you, Ballangier, I believe you! But your conduct is no excuse for mine. I ought not to have treated you harshly, as I did just now. You were drunk, and I should have taken pity on your condition. When I think that I pushed you so roughly that you fell, I am terribly angry with myself. Come, give me your hand again, and forgive me for throwing you down." Ballangier took my hands and effusively pressed them in his, while great tears fell from his eyes and he muttered: "He asks me to forgive him, after all the mean tricks I've played on him! Oh! you're too good to me, Charles; you ought to beat me--yes, beat me like an old carpet; for I cheated you also about going to Besançon. It is true that I had had a letter from Morillot--you saw the letter, you know; but when you gave me four hundred francs for the journey, I didn't go as I had promised you! I allowed myself to be led away by some of those villainous loafers whom we are foolish enough to call _friends_, when we ought rather to call them _enemies_. What sort of friends are they who can do nothing but drink and carouse and raise the devil in wine shops, who pass their lives in idleness and make sport of steady, hard-working mechanics, and who never cease trying to make us do all sorts of foolish things, so that we may end by being as worthless as they are? With friends like that, a man ought to smash their ribs the first time they give him bad advice; I'm sure that would lessen the number of vagrants that are taken to the Préfecture every week. But that's all over; I'll take my oath, Charles, by all that's holy, that it's all over this time! You won't be obliged again to--push me, as you did just now." "I believe you, Ballangier; let us forget all that. But tell me--how did you succeed in getting rid of your creditor?"