"At all events," said Chicot, "everything is clear, except the postscript. Very good, We will look after the postscript, then."
"Dear Monsieur Chicot," Bonhomet ventured to observe, seeing that Chicot had finished writing, if not thinking, "Dear Monsieur Chicot, you have not told me what I am to do with this corpse."—"That is a very simple affair."
"For you, who are full of imagination, it may be, but for me?"
"Well! suppose, for instance, that that unfortunate captain had been quarreling with the Swiss guards or the Reiters, and he had been brought to your house wounded, would you have refused to receive him?"
"No, certainly, unless indeed you had forbidden me, dear M. Chicot."
"Suppose that, having been placed in that corner, he had, notwithstanding the care and attention you had bestowed upon him, departed this life while in your charge, it would have been a great misfortune, and nothing more, I suppose?"
"Certainly."
"And, instead of incurring any blame, you would deserve to be commended for your humanity. Suppose, again, that while he was dying this poor captain had mentioned the name, which you know very well, of the prior of Les Jacobins Saint Antoine?"
"Of Dom Modeste Gorenflot?" exclaimed Bonhomet, in astonishment.
"Yes, of Dom Modeste Gorenflot. Very good! You will go and inform Dom Modeste of it; Dom Modeste will hasten here with all speed, and, as the dead man's purse is found in one of his pockets—you understand it is important that the purse should be found; I mention this merely by way of advice—and as the dead man's purse is found in one of his pockets, and this letter in the other, no suspicion whatever can be entertained."