"Divine justice watches over me!" said Pipelet, in a burst of religious gratitude; "they come to arrest Cabrion! Unhappily, it is too late!" A commissary of police, known by a scarf worn under his black coat, entered the lodge. His countenance was grave, dignified, and severe. "M. le Commissaire, you are too late; the malefactor has fled!" said Pipelet, sadly; "but I can give you his description. Villainous smile, impudent manners--" "Of whom do you speak?" asked the officer. "Of Cabrion, M. le Commissaire, and if you make all haste, there may be yet time to get hold of him," answered Pipelet. "I do not know who this Cabrion is," said the officer, impatiently. "Does Jerome Morel, working lapidary, live in this house?" "Yes, sir," said Mrs. Pipelet, standing at the salute. "Conduct me to his apartment."' "Morel, the lapidary!" resumed the portress, quite surprised; "he is as gentle as a lamb, and incapable of--" "Does Jerome Morel live here or not?" "He does live here, sir, with his family, in the attic." "Show me, then, to this garret." Then, addressing a man who accompanied him, the magistrate said: "Let the two municipal guards wait below, and not leave the alley. Send Justin for a coach." The man left to execute these orders. "Now," said the magistrate, addressing Pipelet, "conduct me to Morel." "If it be all the same to you, sir, I will go instead of Alfred, who is indisposed from the persecution of Cabrion; who, just as cabbage does, troubles his gizzard." "You, or your husband, it matters little which--go on." Preceded by Mrs. Pipelet, he began to ascend the stairs; but he soon stopped, perceiving that he was followed by Rudolph and Miss Dimpleton. "Who are you, and what do you want?" demanded he. "They are the two fourth-floors," said Mrs. Pipelet. "Pardon me, sir, I did not know that you belonged to the house," said he, to Rudolph; who, auguring well from the politeness of the magistrate, said, "You will find a family in great distress, sir. I do not know what new misfortune menaces the unhappy artisan, but he has been cruelly tried last night; one of his children, worn out by illness, is dead beneath his eyes--dead from cold and misery." "Is it possible?" "It is the truth," said Mrs. Pipelet. "If it had not been for the gentleman who now speaks to you, and who is a king of lodgers, for he has saved, by his goodness, poor Morel from prison, the whole family of the lapidary must have died from hunger." The commissary looked at Rudolph with as much interest as surprise. "Nothing is more simple, sir," said the latter. "A person who is very charitable, knowing that Morel, to whose worth I pledge my honor, was in a position as deplorable as it was unmerited, instructed me to pay a bill of exchange, for which the bailiffs were about to drag to prison this poor man, the sole support of a large family."