Marius was gloomy; he had only just made himself a faith, and must he reject it again? He declared to himself that he would not: he resolved not to doubt, and began doubting involuntarily. To stand between two religions, one of which you have not yet lost, and the other which you have not yet entered, is unendurable, and twilight only pleases bat-like souls. Marius had an open eyeball and wanted true light; and the semi-lustre of doubt hurt him. Whatever might be his desire to remain where he was and cling to it, he was invincibly constrained to continue, to advance, to think, to go farther. Whither would this lead him? He feared lest, after taking so many steps which had drawn him near his father, he was now going to take steps which would carry him away from him. His discomfort increased with all the reflections that occurred to him, and an escarpment became formed around him. He agreed neither with his grandfather nor his friends; he was rash for the one and backward for the others; and he found himself doubly isolated,--on the side of old age and on the side of youth. He left off going to the Café Musain. In the troubled state of his conscience he did not think at all of certain serious sides of existence; but the realities of life will not allow themselves to be forgotten, and so they suddenly came to jog his memory. One morning the landlord came into Marius's room, and said to him,-- "Monsieur Courfeyrac recommended you?" "Yes." "But I want my money." "Ask Courfeyrac to come and speak to me," said. Marius. When Courfeyrac arrived the landlord left them, and Marius told his friend what he had not dreamed of telling him yet,--that he was, so to speak, alone in the world, and had no relations. "What will become of you?" said Courfeyrac. "I do not know," Marius answered. "What do you intend doing?" "I do not know." "Have you any money?" "Fifteen francs." "Are you willing to borrow from me?" "Never." "Have you clothes?" "There they are." "Any jewelry?" "A gold watch." "I know a second-hand clothesman who will take your overcoat and a pair of trousers." "Very good." "You will only have a pair of trousers, a waistcoat, a hat, and coat left." "And my boots." "What? You will not go barefoot? What opulence!" "That will be enough." "I know a jeweller who will buy your watch." "All right." "No, it is not all right; what will you do after?" "Anything I can that is honest." "Do you know English?" "No." "Or German?" "No." "All the worse." "Why so?" "Because a friend of mine, a publisher, is preparing a sort of Encyclopædia, for which you could have translated English or German articles. The pay is bad, but it is possible to live on it." "I will learn English and German." "And in the mean while?" "I will eat my clothes and my watch." "The clothes-dealer was sent for, and gave twenty francs for the coat and trousers; next they went to the jeweller's, who bought the watch for forty-five francs.