There was Madame Laurent,--there was the German count, whom the professor was teaching French;--there was the French viscount, whom he was teaching German;--there were all his fellow-lodgers--the ladies whom he had boasted of--the men he had boasted to--Don Juan, in the infernal regions, could not have met with a more unwelcome set of old acquaintance than Monsieur Margot had the happiness of opening his bewildered eyes upon in the porter's lodge.
"What!" cried they all, "Monsieur Margot, is that you who have been frightening us so?
We thought the house was attacked; the Russian general is at this very moment loading his pistols; lucky for you that you did not choose to stay longer in that situation.

Pray, Monsieur, what could induce you to exhibit yourself so, in your dressing-gown too, and the night so cold?
Ar'n't you ashamed of yourself ?" All this, and infinitely more, was levelled against the miserable professor, who stood shivering with cold and fright; and turning his eyes first upon one, and then on another, as the exclamations circulated round the room, "I do assure you," at length he began.
"No, no," cried one, "it is of no use explaining now!" "Mais, Messieurs," querulously recommenced the unhappy Margot.
"Hold your tongue," exclaimed Madame Laurent, "you have been disgracing my house." "Mais, Madame, ecoutez-moi--" "No, no," cried the German, "we saw you--we saw you." "Mais, Monsieur Le Comte--" "Fie, fie!" cried the Frenchman.
"Mais, Monsisur Le Vicomte--" At this every mouth was opened, and the patience of Monsieur Margot being by this time exhausted, he flew into a violent rage; his tormentors pretended an equal indignation, and at length he fought his way out of the room, as fast as his shattered bones would allow him, followed by the whole body, screaming, and shouting, and scolding, and laughing after him.
The next morning passed without my usual lesson from Monsieur Margot; that was natural enough: but when the next day, and the next, rolled on, and brought neither Monsieur Margot nor his excuse, I began to be uneasy for the poor man.

Accordingly I sent to Madame Laurent's to inquire after him: judge of my surprise at hearing that he had, early the day after his adventure, left his lodgings with his small possession of books and clothes, leaving only a note to Madame Laurent, enclosing the amount of his debt to her, and that none had since seen or heard of him.
From that day to this I have never once beheld him.

The poor professor lost even the little money due to him for his lessons--so true is it, that in a man of Monsieur Margot's temper, even interest is a subordinate passion to vanity..