While waiting for these orders that were very tardy in coming, Paul made the acquaintance of a Danish Count who had served all through the war.
His quiet, gentle manners and evident embarrassment at being surrounded by the rough crowd of adventurers and soldiers of fortune with whom Fate had thrown him, appealed to Paul's sympathy, He said to the Count: "Come with me and I will take care of you." They secured lodging together on the upper story in a house in the Rue de l'Hospital for the princely consideration of one franc a week, which the landlady informed them must be paid in advance.

With the air of a millionaire, Paul paid the rent for the first week and cheerfully intimated to the landlady that they would require the best room in her house as soon as their remittances arrived.

Their room was a miserable affair in the attic, lit up with one small window.

The scant bed clothes often compelled them to sleep in their uniforms of a cold night.

When they reached their apartment they compared notes and found that all the money they had between them amounted to eight francs and seventy five centimes, (about $1.75).
"We must sail close to the wind now, Count," said the ever cheerful Paul to the despondent Dane.