"
The day and the hour were in his favor. Night was coming on,
hastened by a thick fog; the street lamps were not yet lighted,
and as it was Sunday most of the shops were closed. It grew dark
so rapidly that Chupin was scarcely able to recognize Florent when
he at last emerged from the house. It is true that he looked
altogether unlike the servant in the red waist-coat. As he had
the key to the wardrobe containing his master's clothes, he did
not hesitate to use them whenever an opportunity offered. On this
occasion he had appropriated a pair of those delicately tinted
trousers which were M. de Coralth's specialty, with a handsome
overcoat, a trifle too small for him, and a very elegant hat.
"Fine doings, indeed!" growled Chupin as he started in pursuit.
"My servants sha'n't serve me in that way if I ever have any."
But he paused in his soliloquy, and prudently hid himself under a
neighboring gateway. The gorgeous Florent was ringing at the door
of one of the most magnificent mansions in the Rue de la Ville
l'Eveque. The door was opened, and he went in. "Ah! ah!" thought
Chupin, "he hadn't far to go. The viscount and the baroness are
shrewd. When you have flowers to send to anybody it's convenient
to be neighbors!"
He glanced round, and seeing an old man smoking his pipe on the
threshold of a shop, he approached him and asked politely "Can you
tell me whom that big house belongs to?"
"To Baron Trigault," replied the man, without releasing his hold
on his pipe.
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