“It is not thus with me,” replied Cagliostro, with a firm and lofty voice, “innumerable as are those whom the uninitiated eyes see not, I know all from the topmost to the lowest of those who bring the bricks and hew the stones.”
The coachman shut the door, got upon the box, and took the carriage at a gallop to St. Claude Street. The carriage was stopped and the door opened with a zeal which testified to the man’s respect.
Cagliostro motioned for Gilbert to alight first and as he descended, he said to the jarvey:
“Any news?”
“Yes, Master,” said the knight of the whip, “and I should have made my report this evening if I had not the luck to meet you.”
“Speak.”
“My news is not for outsiders.”
“Oh, the bystander is not an outsider,” returned Cagliostro, smiling.
But Gilbert moved off a little, though he could not help glancing and listening partially. He saw a smile on the hearers’s face as the man told his story. He caught the name of Favras and Count Provence, before the report was over, when the magician took out a goldpiece and offered it.
“The Master knows that it is forbidden to receive pay for giving information,” he objected.