“My master’s!” insolently replied one of the grooms.
“The name of your master is a secret, I suppose?” queried M. Drouet.
“That depends upon who asks me.”
M. Guillaume frowned.
“This is an insolent scoundrel,” said he, “who merits being taught how lackeys should speak to men!”
“Will you teach me?” asked the groom.
“Why not?” asked Guillaume, going a step nearer to him.
M. Jean Baptiste stopped him by taking hold of his arm.
“My dear Guillaume,” said he, “don’t put yourself out; perhaps this good man is forbidden to speak, and has come like M. Goguelot, for the treasure.”
“Do you know M. Goguelot, and why we are here?”