"Ah! to be sure, the dentist on the third floor. I will put it in the letter-boot." Rodolph fancied he had not caught the right words, but, to his astonishment, he saw Madame Pipelet gravely throw the letter alluded to into an old top-boot hanging up against the wall. He looked at her with surprise. "Do you mean," said he at length, "to put the gentleman's letter in----" "Oh, yes, that is all right," replied the porteress. "I have put it in the letter-boot,--there, you see. So now nobody's letters can be mislaid; and when the different lodgers return home, Alfred or myself turns the boot upside down,--we sort them out, and everybody gets his own." So saying, the porteress proceeded to break the seal of the letter addressed to her; which having done, she turned it round and round, looked at it in every direction, then, after a short appearance of embarrassment and uncertainty, she said to Rodolph: "Alfred generally reads my letters for me, because I do not happen to be able to read them myself; perhaps you would not mind just looking over this for me?" "With the utmost pleasure!" quickly replied Rodolph, curious to dive into the mysteries of who Madame Pipelet's correspondent might be; and forthwith he read what follows, written upon hot-pressed paper, stamped in its right-hand corner with the helmet, the letters "C. R.," the heraldic supporters, and the cross of honour. "To-morrow (Friday), about eleven o'clock, let there be a good (not an overfierce) fire lighted in both rooms; have everything well dusted, and remove the coverings from the furniture, taking especial care not to scratch the gilding, or to soil or burn the carpet while lighting the fires. If I should not be in about one o'clock, when a lady will arrive in a hackney-coach and inquire for me by the name of M. Charles, let her be shown up to the apartment; after which the key is to be taken down-stairs again, and kept till my arrival." Spite of the want of finished composition displayed in this _billet_, Rodolph perfectly comprehended to whom and what it alluded, and merely added, after perusing it: "Who lives on the first floor, then?" The old woman placed her yellow, shrivelled finger upon her pendulous lip, and replied, by a half-malicious grin: "Hush! There is a woman in the way,--silence!" "Oh, my dear Madame Pipelet, I merely asked because, before living in a house, one likes to know a little." "Yes, yes! Of course, everybody likes to know all they can; that is all fair enough; and I am sure I have no objection to tell you all I know myself, and that is but very little. Well, but to begin. About six weeks ago a carpet-maker came here to look at the first floor, which was then to let, and to ask the price, and other particulars about it. Next day he came again, accompanied by a young man of fair complexion, small moustaches, and wearing a cross of honour and very fine linen. The carpet-maker called him commandant."