"It is," echoed Pompée.
"It isn't his fault," said Canolles, anxious to make a friend of the old squire; "in his fall the straps broke and the valise fell off."
"The straps are not broken, monsieur, but cut," said Castorin. "Look!"
"Oho! Monsieur Pompée," said Canolles, "what does that mean?"
"It means," said the viscount, sternly, "that, in his terror at being pursued by robbers, Monsieur Pompée cleverly cut the straps of the valise so that he might not have the responsibility of being the treasurer. In military parlance, what is that ruse called, Monsieur Pompée?"
Pompée tried to excuse himself by putting the blame on his hunting-knife which he had imprudently drawn; but, as he could give no satisfactory explanation, he remained under the suspicion, in the viscount's eyes, of having chosen to sacrifice the valise to his own safety.
Canolles was more lenient.
"Nonsense! nonsense!" said he; "that may or may not be; but strap the valise on again. Come, Castorin, help Monsieur Pompée. You were right, Master Pompée, to be afraid of robbers; the valise is heavy, and would be a valuable prize."
"Don't joke, monsieur," said Pompée, with a shudder; "all joking is equivocal at night."
"You are right, Pompée, always right; and so I propose to act as escort to you and the viscount. A re-enforcement of two men may be of some use to you."