Be sure, monsieur, that I will help you," said Canalis, "so far as I have the opportunity of doing so." Dumay withdrew, his heart torn with anxiety, believing that the wretched Butscha had worn the skin of the poet to deceive Modeste; whereas Butscha himself, keen-witted as a prince seeking revenge, and far cleverer than any paid spy, was ferretting out the life and actions of Canalis, escaping notice by his insignificance, like an insect that bores its way into the sap of a tree.
The Breton had scarcely left the poet's house when La Briere entered his friend's study.

Naturally, Canalis told him of the visit of the man from Havre.
"Ha!" said Ernest, "Modeste Mignon; that is just what I have come to speak of." "Ah, bah!" cried Canalis; "have I had a triumph by proxy ?" "Yes; and here is the key to it.

My friend, I am loved by the sweetest girl in all the world,--beautiful enough to shine beside the greatest beauties in Paris, with a heart and mind worthy of Clarissa.

She has seen me; I have pleased her, and she thinks me the great Canalis.

But that is not all.