"Well, he was dying of hunger at Paris for nearly two years; but his good fortune brought it about that another pupil of the Oratorians, Joseph Fouché, of whom you have frequently spoken to me----" "Oh! Joseph Fouché should be a very different kind of man. I am very glad to hear that he is still living. A cunning fellow without any doubt, and always amongst the first. He and I acted together, as they said in the college; he helped me in my tasks, and in return I fought for him; for I was a stout, healthy youth, and Joseph Fouché was by no means strong." "That has not hindered him from getting forward in the world, I must say that for him. He is minister--minister of, what shall I term it? It is all the same; it appears that when one becomes minister he may do whatever he wishes, and as his greatest pleasure consists in making the fortunes of his old class-fellows"---- "If I was sure of that," interrupted the poor pastor, with great emotion. "I think he gave you a sufficient proof in placing Camus as I have described," replied Madeleine; "but Camus, being in Paris, could see him, could speak to him." "And why should not I go to Paris, Madeleine?" exclaimed Michel Perrin, with an air of determination. "I shall go, sister; I shall see Fouché; I shall speak with him; since he has recognised Camus, who was not more than two years at Juilly, I am certain that he will recognise me also." "Would you wish to undertake so long a journey, Michel?" said the kind sister, in great dismay; "no, no, my dear brother." "Hear me, Madeleine," replied the pastor, moving his seat close to her, "whether I go to Paris or elsewhere, I shall leave this place." "You are going away! You wish to leave me!" "Your earnings are merely sufficient for your own support, my dear Madeleine. I do not wish any longer to eat the half of them; and all that you can say to induce me to remain will only annoy me, without making me abandon my resolution. Departing from this place, is it not the better course for me to go to Paris than any other place, inasmuch as you give me the hope of finding a friend there?" "But Paris is so far," said Madeleine, bursting into tears. "Bah! sixty or eighty leagues, what is that distance to a good walker? What annoys me the most, is having to take from you two or three crowns to support me on the road and at the commencement of my sojourn. Can you make out so much?" "I shall not let you depart for Paris with two or three crowns, Michel, you may be assured of that," said poor Madeleine, sobbing. "That would be beyond my requirements, sister. Something tells that once I arrive there, I shall find resources, and that my first letter from Paris will bring you good news."