"Yes, an Englishman, who is very anxious to see you."
That was my own state of mind too! The Englishman could not be more anxious to see me than I was to get away from Bamps.
"My dear Bamps," I said to him, "wait for me; I will come back. We will settle up our account on my return."
"Be qvick back; I must depard dis efening."
"Set your mind at rest about that: I shall be back in an instant."
I took up my cap and followed the stable lad, who had told my mother, to her great surprise, that he had orders not to go back without me.
Cartier, at whose house was the Englishman who demanded to see me, was an old friend of our family, the proprietor of the Boule d'or, a hotel situated at the extreme east of the town, on the road to Soissons. The diligences stopped at his house. There was therefore nothing surprising that the Englishman who was asking for me should be staying there: what did astonish me was that this Englishman should want me. When I appeared in the kitchen, old Cartier, who was warming himself, according to his usual habit, in the chimney corner, came up to me.
"Look sharp," he said: "I believe I am going to pull off a good thing for you."
"Come now, that would be very welcome," I replied; "I was never in greater need of a lucky windfall."
"Well, follow me."