"What good angel has led me to these worthy people?" said Michel Perrin to himself; and whilst he was expressing reiterated thanks, the chief of division, having no time to lose, wrote an order for the cashier, and handed it to him, telling him to go and get his payment, and not to return before the following Monday, unless he had something pressing to say. If the first thought of the pastor, when he found himself the possessor of three hundred francs, tended towards God, the second was for Madeleine, and he could not dream of dining before he had written four pages to that good sister, and made his letter the bearer of half his treasure to Dijon. Then, with a light heart and mind at ease, he resolved to follow the advice of the Citizen Desmarest, and to enjoy a little portion of the Parisian pleasures. "I have four good days before me up to Monday," he said, "and indeed I shall take some amusement." In consequence, he betook himself to walk about the city. Paris, which up to this time had appeared sad, muddy, smoky, took all at once a cheerful appearance in his eyes, for a man whose mind is at ease, sees matters very differently from the aspect they present to an afflicted person. He was not fatigued by visiting the beautiful monuments, public buildings, bridges, gardens, and parks, and he imagined himself transported to fairyland. The Boulevards soon became his favorite promenade. Owing to the variety of amusements which he found there, the good pastor could pass his entire day without experiencing one moment of ennui. The shops, equipages, puppet-shows attracting and occupying his attention; not until night did he direct his steps to the Rue Mouffetard, delighted with the sights of the day, and greatly pleased at having been able to provide himself with two plentiful meals, an indulgence which he had for a long time previous been unable to procure. When Monday arrived, Michel Perrin presented himself at the ministry of police rather anxious to ascertain whether the employment about to be assigned to him might not be beyond his capacity. "Ah! 'tis you," said Desmarest, who appeared busily searching for a paper which he could not find on his desk. "Well! where the devil have I thrust it? What have you done these four days past?" "I have run about the city as if I was only twenty years old," replied the pastor gaily. "Something infernal must have happened to it," said the chief of division, opening a drawer that he had not tried before. "All was quiet, I suppose." "Ah! perfectly quiet! Every one I saw appeared, like myself, to be bent on amusements." "The malcontents are not giving up their designs for all that. (Could I have taken it home with me by mistake?)" "Yes; the discontented people. That is what a poor fellow told me yesterday in a chat which we had at the Boulevard du Temple, and, in faith, I think he was one of them himself." The pastor stopped speaking for a few moments after these words.