"Very well, sir. I don't mean to offend you, but—let us be reasonable. Where do you wish us to go?"
"To St. Vilmosh!"
"I'm not drunk; and the proof is, that I won't stir from the spot!" interposed Mr. Kenihazy.
"What do you wish us to do at St. Vilmosh?"
"Viola is there. We must arrest him to-night, or never; by to-morrow morning he will have passed the stolen documents to some one else."
"Very well," said Mr Skinner, with great dignity; "we'll arrest him to-morrow."
"But I tell you by that time the papers will be gone!"
"So much the better. Am I to leave my house by night? am I to risk my neck to help Mr. Tengelyi to get his papers? Let him go himself, if he likes!"
"Yes; let him go, if he likes!" repeated Mr. Kenihazy. The attorney cast a despairing look at the meritorious functionaries, and seizing the justice by the sleeve, he led him to the window, where they conversed long and eagerly together; while Kenihazy recommenced his old song:—
"The man that does not love Skinner, sirs,
Haj! Haj! Haj!
Devil take him for a sinner, sirs,
Haj! Haj! Haj!"