The good hostess, hoping to prevent a collision, glided among them, and whispered Ernanton's name in St. Maline's ear.
"Ernanton!" cried St. Maline, aloud, for whom this revelation was oil instead of water thrown on the fire, "that is not possible."—"And why so?"
"Oh! because Ernanton is a model of chastity and a melange of all the virtues. No, you must be wrong, Madame Fournichon; it cannot be Ernanton who is shut in there."
And he approached the second door, to treat it as he had done the first, when it was opened, and Ernanton appeared on the threshold, with a face which did not announce that patience was one of the virtues which, according to St. Maline, he possessed.
"By what right has M. de St. Maline broken down one door, and intends to break a second?" said he.
"Ah! it is he, really; it is Ernanton!" cried St. Maline. "I recognize his voice; but as to his person, devil take me if I can see it in this darkness."
"You do not reply to my question, monsieur," said Ernanton.
St. Maline began to laugh noisily, which reassured some of his comrades, who were thinking of retiring.
"I spoke; did you not hear me, M. de St. Maline?" said Ernanton.
"Yes, monsieur, perfectly."