He kept his word. But all police-officers were not so long-suffering as good M.--. The first one before whom Rousseau appeared sent him to the Saint-Martin guard-room and kept him there for a couple of days. After this experience he decided to go back to his old habit. Rousseau and Romieu were very fond of playing pranks on porters and grocers. Rousseau would put his head in at a porter's grille and call out-- "Good-day, my friend." "Good-day, monsieur." "May I ask what bird that is you have in your window?" "It is a blackcap, monsieur." "Ah! indeed!... Why do you keep a blackcap?" "Because it sings so nicely, monsieur." "Really?" "Stop and listen...." And the porter would put his hands on his hips and wag his head up and down with a smile on his face as he listened to the singing of his blackcap. "Ah! you are right!... You are married?" "Yes, monsieur,--been married three times." "And where is your woman?" "My wife, Monsieur means?" "Yes, of course, your wife." "She is at the lodger's, on the fifth floor." "Indeed! indeed! And what is she doing at the lodger's on the fifth floor?" "Charing." "Is the lodger on the fifth floor young or old?" "Between the two." "Good.... And your children?" "I haven't any." "You haven't any?" "No." "Then what have you been about during your three marriages?" "Excuse me ... does Monsieur want someone?" "No." "Monsieur wants something?" "No." "Well, for the past quarter of an hour Monsieur has been asking me question after question." "Yes." "What did you mean by these questions?" "Nothing at all." "What! nothing at all?... But surely Monsieur had some reason?" "None." "Monsieur had no reason?" "No." "Well, then, I should much like to know why Monsieur did me the honour ...?" "Why, I was passing by ... I saw the words over your lodge '_Speak to the porter_,' so I spoke to you." Romieu would enter a grocer's shop. "Good-morning, monsieur." "Monsieur, your very humble servant." "Have you candles eight to the pound?" "Certainly, monsieur, plenty of them; it is an article much in demand, for there are more small purses than large ones." "Your observation, monsieur, savours of higher matters than groceries." Romieu and the grocer bowed to each other. "You flatter me, monsieur." "Monsieur said that he wanted ...?" "One candle of eight to the pound." "Only one?" "Yes, at first; later, I will see." The grocer took a candle out of a packet. "Here it is, monsieur." "Will you cut it in half? I detest fingering candles!" "Quite so, monsieur; they have such a strong smell.... Here is your candle in two pieces." "Ah! now will you be good enough to cut each of those halves into four pieces?" "Into four?" "Yes; I need eight pieces of candle for my purpose." "Here are your eight pieces, monsieur." "Pardon me, will you oblige me by preparing the wicks for me?" "The whole eight?" "Seven rather, since one naturally has its wick ready." "Quite so."