"I will take a cab and go by the Pont Neuf." So the two friends quitted each other in opposite directions, but somehow the different roads brought them to the same place, and they didn't go home till morning.
Two days after, Rodolphe and Marcel were completely metamorphosed.
Dressed like two bridegrooms of the best society, they were so elegant, and neat, and shining, that they hardly recognized each other when they met in the street.

Still their system of economy was in full blast, though it was not without much difficulty that their "organization of labor" had been realized.

They had taken a servant; a big fellow thirty-four years old, of Swiss descent, and about as clever as an average donkey.
But Baptiste was not born to be a servant; he had a soul above his business; and if one of his masters gave him a parcel to carry, he blushed with indignation, and sent it by porter.

However, he had some merits; for instance, he could hash hare well and his first profession having been that of distiller, he passed much of his time--or his masters', rather--in trying to invent a new kind of liniment; he also succeeded in the preparation of lamp-black.

But where he was unrivalled was in smoking Marcel's cigars and lighting them with Rodolphe's manuscripts.
One day Marcel wanted to put Baptiste into costume, and make him sit for Pharaoh in his "Passage of the Red Sea." To this proposition Baptiste replied by a flat refusal, and demanded his wages.
"Very well," said Marcel, "I will settle with you tonight." When Rodolphe returned, his friends declared that they must send away Baptiste.