the reader has just seen how marius discovered, or thought that he discovered, that she was named ursule.

appetite grows with loving. to know that her name was ursule was a great deal; it was very little. in three or four weeks,marius had devoured this bliss. he wanted another. he wanted to know where she lived.

he had committed his first blunder, by falling into the ambush of the bench by the gladiator. he had committed a second, by not remaining at the luxembourg when m. leblanc came thither alone. he now committed a third, and an immense one. he followed "ursule."

she lived in the rue de l'ouest, in the most unfrequented spot,in a new, three-story house, of modest appearance.

from that moment forth, marius added to his happiness of seeing her at the luxembourg the happiness of following her home.

his hunger was increasing. he knew her first name, at least,a charming name, a genuine woman's name; he knew where she lived;he wanted to know who she was.

one evening, after he had followed them to their dwelling,and had seen them disappear through the carriage gate, he entered in their train and said boldly to the porter:--

"is that the gentleman who lives on the first floor, who has just come in?"

"no," replied the porter. "he is the gentleman on the third floor."

another step gained. this success emboldened marius.

"on the front?" he asked.

"parbleu!" said the porter, "the house is only built on the street."

"and what is that gentleman's business?" began marius again.

"he is a gentleman of property, sir. a very kind man who does good to the unfortunate, though not rich himself."

"what is his name?" resumed marius.

the porter raised his head and said:--

"are you a police spy, sir?"

marius went off quite abashed, but delighted. he was getting on.

"good," thought he, "i know that her name is ursule, that she is the daughter of a gentleman who lives on his income, and that she lives there, on the third floor, in the rue de l'ouest."

on the following day, m. leblanc and his daughter made only a very brief stay in the luxembourg; they went away while it was still broad daylight. marius followed them to the rue de l'ouest, as he had taken up the habit of doing. on arriving at the carriage entrance m. leblanc made his daughter pass in first, then paused,before crossing the threshold, and stared intently at marius.

on the next day they did not come to the luxembourg. marius waited for them all day in vain.

at nightfall, he went to the rue de l'ouest, and saw a light in the windows of the third story.

he walked about beneath the windows until the light was extinguished.

the next day, no one at the luxembourg. marius waited all day,then went and did sentinel duty under their windows. this carried him on to ten o'clock in the evening.

his dinner took care of itself. fever nourishes the sick man,and love the lover.

he spent a week in this manner. m. leblanc no longer appeared at the luxembourg.

marius indulged in melancholy conjectures; he dared not watch the porte cochere during the day; he contented himself with going at night to gaze upon the red light of the windows. at times he saw shadows flit across them, and his heart began to beat.

on the eighth day, when he arrived under the windows, there was no light in them.

"hello!" he said, "the lamp is not lighted yet. but it is dark. can they have gone out?" he waited until ten o'clock. until midnight. until one in the morning. not a light appeared in the windows of the third story, and no one entered the house.

he went away in a very gloomy frame of mind.

on the morrow,--for he only existed from morrow to morrow,there was, so to speak, no to-day for him,--on the morrow,he found no one at the luxembourg; he had expected this. at dusk,he went to the house.

no light in the windows; the shades were drawn; the third floor was totally dark.

marius rapped at the porte cochere, entered, and said to the porter:--

"the gentleman on the third floor?"

"has moved away," replied the porter.

marius reeled and said feebly:--

"how long ago?"

"yesterday."

"where is he living now?"

"i don't know anything about it."

"so he has not left his new address?"

"no."

and the porter, raising his eyes, recognized marius.

"come! so it's you!" said he; "but you are decidedly a spy then?"

我们刚才已看到马吕斯是怎样发现，或自以为发现了她的名字叫玉秀儿。

胃口越爱越大。知道她叫玉秀儿，这已经不坏，但是还太少。马吕斯饱啖这一幸福已有三或四个星期。他要求另一幸福。他要知道她住在什么地方。

他犯过第一次错误：曾在那角斗士旁边的板凳附近中计。他犯了第二次错误：白先生单独去公园，他便不待下去。他还要犯第三次错误，绝大的错误，他跟踪“玉秀儿”。

她住在西街行人最少的地方，一栋外表朴素的四层新楼房里。

从这时起，马吕斯在他那公园中相见的幸福之外又添了种一直跟她到家的幸福。

他的食量增加了。他已经知道她的名字，她的教名，至少，那悦耳的名字，那个真正的女性的名字，他也知道了她住在什么地方，他还要知道她是谁。

一天傍晚，他跟着他们到了家，看见他们从大门进去以后，接着他也跟了进去，对那看门的大模大样地说：

“刚才回家的是二楼上的那位先生吗？”

“不是，”看门的回答说，“是四楼上的先生。”

又进了一步。这一成绩壮了马吕斯的胆。

“是住在临街这面的吗？”

“什么临街不临街，”看门的说，“这房子只有临街的一面。”

“这先生是干什么事的？”马吕斯又问。

“是靠年金生活的人，先生。一个非常好的人，虽然不很阔，却能对穷人作些好事。”

“他叫什么名字？”马吕斯又问。

那门房抬起了头，说道：

“先生是个密探吧？”

马吕斯很难为情，走了，但是心里相当高兴。因为他又有了收获。

“好，”他心里想，“我知道她叫‘玉秀儿’，是个有钱人的女儿，住在这里，西街，四楼。”

第二天，白先生和他的女儿只在卢森堡公园待了不大一会儿，他们离开时，天还很亮。马吕斯跟着他们到西街，这已成了习惯。走到大门口，白先生让女儿先进去，他自己在跨门坎以前，停下来回头对着马吕斯定定地看了一眼。

次日，他们没有来公园。马吕斯白等了一整天。

天黑以后，他到西街去，看见第四层的窗子上有灯光，便在窗子下面走来走去，直到熄灯。

再过一日，公园里没人。马吕斯又等了一整天，然后再到那些窗户下面去巡逻，直到十点。晚饭是谈不上了。高烧养病人，爱情养情人。

这样过了八天。白先生和他的女儿不再在卢森堡公园出现了。马吕斯无精打采地胡思乱想，他不敢白天去张望那扇大门，只好在晚上以仰望窗口玻璃片上带点红色的灯光来满足自己。有时见到人影在窗子里走动，他的心便跳个不停。第八天，他走到窗子下面，却不见灯光。“咦！”他说，“还没有点灯，可是天已经黑了，难道他们出去了？”他一直等到十点，等到午夜，等到凌晨一点。四楼窗口还是没有灯亮，也不见有人回来。他垂头丧气地走了。

第二天棗因为他现在是老靠第二天过活的，可以说他已无所谓有今天了棗第二天，他又去公园，谁也没遇见，他在那儿等下去，傍晚时又到那楼房下面。窗子上一点光也没有，板窗也关上了，整个第四层是漆黑的。

马吕斯敲敲大门，走进去问那看门的：

“四楼上的那位先生呢？”

“搬了。”看门的回答。

马吕斯晃了一下，有气无力地问道：

“几时搬的？”

“昨天。”

“他现在住在什么地方？”

“我不知道。”

“他没把新地址留下？”

“没有。”

看门的抬起鼻子，认出了马吕斯。

“嘿！是您！”他说，“您肯定是个探子。”