He found that Deyverdun had reckoned without his host, or rather his tenant, and that they could not have possession of the house for several months, so he had to take lodgings.

Then he sprained his ankle, and this brought on a bad attack of the gout, which laid him up completely.

However, his spirits never gave way.

In time his books arrived, and the friends got installed in their own house.

His satisfaction has then no bounds, with the people, the place, the way of living, and his daily companion.