I did not wait till the usual closing hour, but ran home gleefully with the good news to my mother. I did not, however, mention the offer Rousseau had made me. That evening, after making up my second mail-bag, I went to the café de l'Ambigu and asked for M. Porcher. He was pointed out to me playing a game of dominoes. I went up to him, and he probably knew who I was, for he got up. "I am the young man Rousseau spoke about," I said to him. "I am at your service, monsieur. Are you in a hurry, or will you allow me to finish my game of dominoes?" "By all means finish it, monsieur--I am in no hurry; I will take a walk on the boulevard." I went outside the café to wait, and Porcher came out five minutes later. "So you have had a play accepted at the Ambigu?" he began. "Yes, and it has been put in rehearsal to-day." "I know. And you want money advanced on your tickets?" "Listen!" I said; "this is how I am placed." And I told him in a few words the whole story of my life. "How much do you want on your tickets? You know they are only worth two francs per day?" "Oh yes, I know that only too well!" "I cannot therefore give you much." "I know that also." "For the piece may not be a success." "Well, what can you give me?" "How much?... Let us see!" I rallied all my courage, for I thought myself that the request was exorbitant. "Can you give me fifty francs?" "Oh yes," said Porcher. "When?" "Immediately--I haven't the amount with me, but I will get it from the café." "And I will come in and give you a receipt." "No need; I shall put your name down on my register, as I do M. Mélesville's and other authors'; but it is an understood thing, is it not, that you will always do business with me?" "I agree, on my sacred honour." Porcher went in, got fifty francs from the desk and handed them to me. I have experienced few sensations as delightful as the touch of the first money I earned by my pen: hitherto, what I had earned had been but for my orthography. "Look here," he said, "be sensible, work hard, and I will introduce you to Mélesville." I looked at Porcher: this was the second time he had pronounced the name in connection with which Rousseau had cautioned me particularly. "Why should I make Mélesville's acquaintance?" I ventured to ask timidly. "Why, to work along with him, to be sure. If you worked with Mélesville, your future would be assured." I looked at Porcher. "Listen, monsieur," I said; "lam awfully afraid that what I am going to say to you may displease you." "Oh! oh!" Porcher began. "You are not going to say anything against M. Mélesville to me, are you?" "Heaven forbid, monsieur; no! I have only seen M. Mélesville once or twice, I believe, at the most: he is a man of about thirty-five, is he not?" "Yes." "Dark and thin?" "Yes." "Always laughing?" "Yes." "With a splendid set of teeth?" "That is he." "Well, M. Mélesville is a man of infinite genius." "He is indeed!" "But I have an ambition." "What is it?"