“What is it, monsieur?” asked Pascal. “Cannot an honest man and his wife pass on his business?”
“Yes, monsieur. All those who are known to us can pass. Dismount, if you please, and come to the officer of the gate.”
Pascal mumbled something in a discontented tone and then dismounted.
He gave Lucette one glance with an ominous lift of the eyebrows. She understood the look—that the check was a very ugly one—but with an admirably feigned air of extreme vexation, she exclaimed—
“How you bungle things, Pascal. To bring me out like this! One might as well have a wooden head for a husband.”
“Peace, scold, peace. It is no fault of mine,” he answered crossly.
And the soldier smiled.
CHAPTER XXVII
HUNTED
PASCAL was agreeably surprised when the officer to whom he was conducted, a man of some thirty years of age with a frank face, commenced with a quasi apology.
“This is not a very pleasant duty of mine, monsieur, but you’ll understand it is a duty. I am here in place of Captain Boutelle, and my instructions are not to allow any one to pass the gate who is not known. But as I know scarcely any one while he knows many, it is rather a hardship for the citizens. Your name, please?”