"Then let me go,"
but there he stopped short, not only in his song, but in his walk; for, having perceived two men standing in a doorway, he felt his voice and his legs fail him at once, and he drew up, motionless and silent. Unfortunately, at this moment a shadow approached the window. The coalheaver saw that a cry might lose all, and moved, as if to spring on the passenger; his companion held him back.
"Captain," said he, "do not hurt this man;" and then, approaching him—"Pass on, my friend," said he, "but pass quickly, and do not look back."
The singer did not wait to be told twice, but made off as fast as his little legs and his trembling condition allowed, so that in a few minutes, he had disappeared at the corner of the Hotel de Toulouse.
"'Twas time," murmured the coalheaver; "they are opening the window."
The two men drew back as far as possible into the shade. The window was opened, and one of the light horse appeared on the balcony.
"Well?" said a voice, which the coalheaver and his companion recognized as that of the regent, from the interior of the room. "Well, Simiane, what kind of weather is it?"
"Oh!" replied Simiane, "I think it snows."
"Or rains, I do not know which," continued Simiane.