“I arrived in Paris, this morning, from my native province, and already a coachman has insulted me, a soldier has mocked me, an old man has deceived me, a commissary of police has desired to arrest me, as he thought me crazy, because I had saved a man’s life, a waiter in a restaurant has called me _green_, a great lady has refused to answer me, and a working-woman has heaped epithets upon me because I asked her to direct me to an _auberge_. Really, I might inquire whether I am crazy, or whether, instead of coming into a civilized region, I have not fallen among a horde of savages.” The merchant--for such the man evidently was--rejoined,-- “There is, perhaps, some truth in the latter supposition. Come in and take a seat for a moment, and I will aid you.” “Generous man! Blessings on you! God, I am sure, will take account of your good action; and if ever you or your son should visit distant shores, he will prepare for you shelter in a hospitable tent.” CHAPTER VIII. “I am not married,” said the merchant, “and, therefore, have no son. If I had one, I would not let him travel. For myself, I will never go farther than Versailles, where I am going to retire. I shall be sure to find a hospitable tent there, for I have an income of ten thousand francs. Finally, I am not a generous man: I am a dealer in porcelain.” “It is not a dull trade,” observed Eusebe, sententiously. “I invited you to come in,” continued the merchant, “because I knew by your accent that you were a compatriot. I am from Rochechouart. My name is Lansade.” Eusebe thereupon gave an account of his journey, and detailed the motives for the undertaking,--which, however, the merchant did not comprehend. “What I can see clearly in all this is, that M. Martin, your father,--I know him well,--wishes you to see the world. It is quite natural. A young man ought to know something of life.” “Such is, indeed, his wish.” “But,” continued Lansade, “he should have given you letters of introduction to some friends, who would take pleasure in piloting you through Paris.” “My father has no friends.” “As times go, that is perhaps as well. But one must have acquaintances: one cannot live like a bear.” “My father lives like a philosopher.” “It is the same thing,” said Lansade. “Now, since your good star has conducted you to my door, I wish to be useful to you. First, take these cards, which have my address. Do not lose them. I will close my store, and then conduct you to Madame Morin, a lady who rents chambers. She is a fine woman, who will take care of you. I am not sorry to take her a tenant. I shall thereby render service to two persons.” “You are very good, monsieur,” said Eusebe: “I cannot tell you how much I am obliged to you.” “It is not worth mentioning. As soon as I have closed my store, we will set out.” “Shall I assist you?” inquired Eusebe.