started and cut short the interview by saying:
"I think my wife must be up. We will go down stairs. Besides, a working day never begins too soon. Come, young man, come."
On going forth, Jacques secured the garret door with a padlock.
This time he guided his ward into what Therese called the study. The furniture of this little room was composed of glazed cases of butterflies, herbs and minerals, framed in ebonized wood; books in a walnut case, a long, narrow table, covered with a worn and blackened cloth; with manuscripts orderly arranged on it, and four wooden chairs covered in horsehair. All was glossy, lustrous, irreproachable in order and cleanness, but cold to sight and heart, from the light through the gauze curtains being gray and weak, and luxury, or comfort itself, being far from this cold, ashy and black fireside.
A small rosewood piano stood on four legs, and a clock on the mantel-piece alone showed any life in this domestic tomb.
Gilbert walked in respectfully, for it was grand in his eyes; almost as rich as Taverney, and the waxed floor imposed on him.
"I am going to show you the nature of your work," said the old gentleman. "This is music paper. When I copy a page I earn ten cents, the price I myself fix. Do you know music?"
"I know the names of the notes but not their value, as well as these signs. In the house where I lived was a young lady who played the harpsichord——" and Gilbert hung his head, coloring.
"Oh, the same who studied botany," queried Jacques.
"Precisely; and she played very well."
"This does not account for your learning music."
"Rousseau says that the man is incomplete who enjoys a result without seeking the cause."
"Yes; but, also, that man in perfecting himself by the discovery, loses his happiness, freshness and instincts."
"What matter if what he gains compensates him for the losses?"
"Gad! you are not only a botanist and a musician, but a logician. At present we only require a copyist. While copying, you will train your hand to write more easily when you compose for yourself. Meanwhile, with a couple of hours' copy work at night, you may earn the wherewithal to follow the courses in the colleges of medicine, surgery and botany."
"I understand you," exclaimed Gilbert, "and I thank you from the bottom of my heart."
He settled himself to begin work on the sheet of paper held out by the kind gentleman.
Chapter XXIX.
Who Master Jacques Was.
While the novice was covering the paper with his first attempts, the old gentleman set to reading printer's proofs—long leaves blank on one side like the paper of which was made the bean bags.
At nine Therese rushed in.
"Quick, quick!" she cried to Jacques, who raised his head. "Come out. It is a prince who calls. Goodness me! when will this procession of high-cockalorums cease? I hope this one will not take it into his head to have breakfast with us, like the Duke of Chartres the other day."
"Which prince is this one?" asked Jacques in an undertone.
"His Highness the Prince of Conti."
Gilbert let a blob of ink fall on the paper much more resembling a blot than a full note.
Jacques went out, smiling behind Therese, who shut the door after them.
"Princes here!" thought Gilbert. "Dukes calling on a copier of music!"
With his heart singularly beating, he went up to the door to listen.
"I want to take you with me," said a strange voice.
"For what purpose, prince?" inquired Jacques.
"To present you to the dauphiness. A new era opens for philosophers in her coming reign."
"I am a thousand times thankful to your highness; but my infirmities keep me indoors."
"And your misanthropy?"
"Suppose it were that? Is it so curious a thing that I should put myself out for it?"
"Come, and I will spare you the grand reception at the celebration at St. Denis, and take you on to Muette, where her royal highness will pass the night in a couple of days."
"Does she get to St. Denis the day after to-morrow?"
"With her whole retinue. Come! the princess is a pupil of Gluck and an excellent musician."
Gilbert did not listen to any more after hearing that the dauphiness' retinue would be at St. Denis, only a few miles out, in a day or two. He might soon be within view of Andrea. This idea dazzled him like a flash from a looking-glass in his face. When he opened his eyes after this giddiness they fell on a book which happened to be open on the sideboard; it was Rousseau's Confessions, "adorned with a portrait of the author."
"The very thing I was looking for. I had never seen what he was like."
He quickly turned over the tissue paper on the steel plate and as he looked, the door opened and the living original of the portrait returned. With extended hands, dropping the volume, and trembling all over, he muttered:
"Oh! I am under the roof of Jean Jacques Rousseau!"
The old gentleman smiled with more happiness at this unstudied ovation than at the thousand triumphs of his glorious life.
"Yes, my friend, you are in Rousseau's house."
"Pray forgive me for the nonsense I have talked," said the hero-worshiper, clasping his hands and about to fall on his knees.
"Did it require a prince's call for you to recognize the persecuted philosopher of Geneva? poor child—but lucky one—who is ignorant of persecution."
"Oh, I am happy to see you, to know you, to dwell by you."
"Yes, yes, that is all very well; but we must earn our living. When you shall have copied this piece—for you have practiced enough to make a start—you will have earned your keep to-day. I charge nothing for the lodging—only do not sit up late and burn up the candles, for Therese will scold. What was left over from supper last night will be our breakfast; but this will be the last meal we take together, unless I invite you. In the street is a cheap dining-house for artisans, where you will fare nicely. I recommend it. In the mean time, let us breakfast."
Gilbert followed without a word, for he was conquered, for the first time; but then this was a man superior to others.
After the first mouthfuls he left table; the shock had spoilt his appetite. At eight in the evening he had copied a piece of music, not artistically but legibly, and Rousseau paid him the six cents.
"We
