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The Cervins were staying at Sevres with relations, and were expected home again in a day or two; Mademoiselle Louie? well, Mademoiselle Louie was not with them. Had she gone back to England? Mais non! A trunk of hers was still in the Cervins' vestibule. Did Madame Merichat know anything about her? the lad asked, forcing himself to it, his blanched face turned away.
He can't be out; it isn't half-past eight. It's just his tiresomeness. And she made another and still more vehement attempt, all to no purpose. Not a sound was to be heard from the room within. But as she was again standing irresolute, she heard a footstep behind her on the narrow stairs, and looking round saw the concierge, Madame Merichat.
'So they are amusing themselves at Fontainebleau? inquired Madame Merichat, who had been leaning against the wall, twisting her apron and studying the English girl with her hard, malicious eyes. 'Oh! I don't complain; there was a letter for me too. Monsieur has paid all. But I regret for mademoiselle if mademoiselle is surprised. She spoke to deaf ears.
Had they not been seen all day? Certainly. They had come in about six o'clock avec une jeune personne and M. Montjoie. She thought it probable that they were all at that moment down below, in the studio of M. Montjoie. David already knew his way thither, and was soon standing outside the high black door with the pane of glass above it to which Madame Merichat had originally directed him.
She understood perfectly that the French girl admired her; her face relaxed its frown; she nodded to the stranger with a sort of proud yielding, and then let herself be taken by the arm and led once more along the corridor. Elise Delaunay unlocked her own door. 'Bien! she said, putting her head in first, 'Merichat has earned her money. Now go in go in! and see if I don't give you some supper.
When he had arrived the night before at the house in the Rue Chantal, Madame Merichat could tell him nothing of Mademoiselle Delaunay, who had not been heard of. Then he asked, his voice dying in his throat before the woman's hard and cynical stare the stare of one who found the chief savour of life in the misfortunes of her kind he asked for his sister and the Cervins.
He sprang up and dressed. Never had the May sun shone so brightly; never had life looked more alluring. In the first place he took care to profit by the hints of the night before. He ran down to make friends with Madame Merichat a process which was accomplished without much difficulty, as soon as a franc or two had passed, and arrangements had been made for the passing of a few more.
There were three ateliers in the building, the two on their own top floor, and M. Montjoie's, which was apparently built out at the back on the ground floor. The first floor was occupied by a dressmaker, the proprietaires best tenant, according to Madame Merichat.
He could vaguely recall the long pacings of the Louvre; the fixed scrutiny of face after face; vain chases; ignominious retreats; and all the wretched stages of that slow descent into a bottomless despair! At last there was a letter the long-expected letter to Madame Merichat, directing the removal of Mademoiselle Delaunay's possessions from the Rue Chantal.
At the same moment the outer door opened and Madame Cervin came bustling back again, bursting with news and indignation. Oh, there was no doubt at all about it, they had gone off together! Madame Merichat had seen them come downstairs about noon the day before. He was carrying a black bag and a couple of parcels.
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