Despite his position, he hurriedly exclaimed: "Follow me at a
little; distance in the rear until I stop."
Marguerite, obeyed him in breathless suspense. The young fellow
was our friend Victor Chupin, now somewhat the worse for his
encounter with Vantrasson that same morning. His face was
considerably disfigured, and one of his eyes was black and
swollen; nevertheless he was in a state of ecstatic happiness.
Happy, and yet anxious; for, as he preceded Mademoiselle
Marguerite, he said to himself: "How shall I tell her that I have
succeeded? There must be no folly. If I tell her the news
suddenly, she will most likely faint, so I must break the news
gently."
On reaching the Rue Boursault, he turned the corner, and paused,
waiting for Mademoiselle Marguerite to join him. "What is the
news?" she anxiously asked.
"Everything is progressing finely--slowly, but finely."
"You know something, monsieur! Speak! Don't you see how anxious I
am?"
He did see it only too well; and his embarrassment increased to
such a pitch that he began to scratch his head furiously. At last
he decided on a plan. "First of all, mademoiselle, brace yourself
against the wall, and now stand firm. Yes, like that. Now, are
you all right? Well, I have found M. Ferailleur!"
Chupin's precaution was a wise one, for Marguerite tottered. Such
a success, so quickly gained, was indeed astounding.
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