“Well,” he said; “I am no rogue of a Talma to act a part. But what, in God’s name, delayed thee?”
“Fouquier-Tinville.”
His jaw dropped at me.
“Si fait vraiment,” I said, and gave him the facts.
He shivered as I spoke. The instant I was done, “Get under the canvas!” said he, in a terrible voice. “There will be hue-and-cry, and if I am followed, we are both lost. Get under the canvas, and endure what thou canst not cure!”
* * * * * * *
My God! the frightfulness of that journey! of the company I lay with! We drove, as I gathered, by the less-frequented streets, and reached the barrier of St Jacques by way of the Rue de Biron. Here, for the first time, we were stopped.
“Halte là!” bawled a tipsy voice. “What goods to declare, friend?”
“Content thyself,” I heard Crépin answer. “They bear the Government mark.”
“How, then, carrier?”