"With the adjoining small closet, one hundred and fifty francs a month,--not a farthing less. The principal lessee is a screw,--a regular skinflint." "What is his name?" "M. Bras Rouge." This name, and the remembrances so unexpectedly presented by it, made Rodolph start. "I think, Madame Pipelet, you were saying that the principal lessee of the house is----" "M. Bras Rouge." "And he lives----" "Rue aux Fêves, No. 13. He also keeps an estaminet near the Champs Elysées." All doubt was then at an end,--it was the Bras Rouge of infamous notoriety; and singular indeed did the circumstance of thus coming across him strike Rodolph. "But though M. Bras Rouge is your principal lessee, he is not, I presume, the owner of the house; may I ask who is?" "M. Bourdon; but I have never had communication with any one besides M. Bras Rouge." With the design of still further ingratiating himself with the porteress, Rodolph resumed: "My dear madame, this cold day would make a little of something warm and comfortable very acceptable. Might I venture to solicit the favour of your stepping as far as the spirit-shop, kept so conveniently at hand, and bring a bottle of cassia and two glasses? For I feel very tired, and the cold has quite seized me. Stay, madame, we will have three glasses, if you please; because I hope your husband will join us when he returns." So saying, he placed a franc in the fat, dirty hand of the porteress. "Ah, monsieur, you are determined to make us all fall in love with you!" cried Madame Pipelet, nodding her approval of the commission, and thereby sending the flush of pleasure into a face glowing with all the fiery honours of an excited Bacchante. "To be sure! There is nothing like a drop of really good cordial such a day as this; and they do keep most excellent here at hand. I'll go,--of course I will; but I shall only bring a couple of glasses, for Alfred and I always drink out of the same glass. Poor old darling! he is so very nice and particular in showing all those sort of delicate attentions to women." "Then go along, my good Madame Pipelet, and we will wait till Alfred comes." "But, then, suppose any one wants me whilst I am out, who will mind the lodge?" "Oh, I'll take care of the lodge." The old woman departed on her agreeable errand. At the termination of a few minutes the postman tapped at the lodge window, and putting his hand into the apartment, presented two letters, merely saying, "Three sous." "Six sous, you mean, for two letters," replied Rodolph. "One is free," answered the man.