"Speak on; go on," said Desmarest, who continued to rummage his papers; "I am listening to you whilst I am looking for this cursed letter. What sort of man was this fellow?" "He is a former garde du corps of the Comte d'Artois." "Is he young? (This is enough to set one mad!)" "About my age." "(Ah! I have found it at last.) Well, your former garde du corps?" "He told me his entire history." "What a confiding man! Well?" "It was a simple, plain story, and indeed I told him that I was a clergyman, that"---- "You told him that you had been a clergyman?" exclaimed Desmarest, laughing immoderately. "Undoubtedly," replied Michel, rather disconcerted. "All right, all right," said the chief of division in a tone of approval. "What makes me laugh is, that if you had told me the same thing when you first came here, you would not have surprised me, and I should have believed you at once: I observe in you so much of the air of a man who has worn a priestly habit." "I have never been able to divest myself of that air, although it has often proved almost fatal to me," said Michel, with a sigh. "At present, on the contrary, it is most favorable; your figure, your entire appearance inspires confidence." The pastor bowed to express his thanks. "And without doubt," continued Desmarest, "the good Royalist of the Boulevard is living on hope like all his friends. He has some lively expectations of a happy change of his circumstances." "He has indeed, many." "What do they depend on?" "Ah! I do not know. The first time that he saw me this man could not tell me all his affairs." "This is very natural," said the chief of division. "Have you arranged to see him again?" "We have settled to have a game of chess one of these days, provided I may be free to return to the Café Turc." "And what prevents you?" "If the business which you will appoint for me to-day requires my entire time." "I have no business to appoint for you," answered Desmarest, "but as I am greatly burdened myself at present, you may return to this matter or to any other until Thursday; come to me on that day." Michel Perrin, not wishing to be troublesome, hastened to salute his chief and to leave the office, but not without being greatly surprised that they paid him so liberally for doing nothing. Nevertheless, feeling certain that ultimately he would be set to work, he laughed as he walked on the quay. "Three more holidays," he said, "and in faith we'll enjoy them!" And he resumed the life of a Parisian cockney.[14] The following Thursday, after having waited near two hours in the ante-chamber with some men of very sinister aspect, the pastor was admitted to citizen Desmarest, who smiled graciously, saying-- "Well, what news?" "News!" exclaimed Michel quite astonished. "Yes; when you come here undoubtedly you must have something to tell me." "In fact, citizen, as this is Thursday, I have come to know if it is to-day that you desire to commence employing me."