"M. Lhuillier—he is the mayor of the village. He wants to know what he should do with the prince."
"Humph!" said a man sitting on the pavement, with a rifle between his legs, munching a piece of bread; "what he should do with him? We'll tell him what to do with him!..." Then, rising—"Here, friends!" he cried out loudly, "the Duc de Chartres has been arrested at Montrouge. Those who would like to taste a bite of prince's flesh come with me!"
"What did you say, my fine fellow?" exclaimed Étienne, laying a hand on the man's shoulder.
"I said that they killed my brother and that I will myself go and kill the Duc de Chartres this very day!"
There was no time to be lost. Étienne flew into the café.
"Look here!" he said to Bohain, "your servant has made a fine mess of it!"
"What has he done?"
"He went and spread the news that the Duc de Chartres was a prisoner in the hands of your brother-in-law, and a score of rascals have started off to kill the prince."
"The devil!" Nestor and Bohain exclaimed in a breath; "that must not be allowed."