Before I could finish my sentence the door of the cabinet slowly opened, and De Beauvais appeared, but so metamorphosed I could scarcely recognize him; for, short as the interval was, he had put on my old uniform of the Polytechnique, which, from our similarity in height, fitted him perfectly.
“All safe, Tom,” said he, stealing out, with an easy smile on his countenance. “Par Saint Denis! I thought it was old Legrange himself come to look for me. Ah, Monsieur, how d' ye do? You have given me a rare fright tonight. I came to spend the day with my friend here, and, as ill luck would have it, have outstayed my time. The école closes at nine, so that I 'm in for a week's arrest at least.”
“A cool confession this, sir, to a minister of police!” said Gisquet, sternly, while his dark eyes surveyed the speaker from head to foot.
“Not when that minister is called Gisquet,” said he, readily, and bowing courteously as he spoke.
“You know me, then?” said the other, still peering at him with a sharp look.
“Only from your likeness to a little boy in my company,” said he, “Henri Gisquet. A fine little fellow he is, and one of the cleverest in the school.”
“You are right, sir; he is my son,” said the minister, as a pleased smile passed over his swarthy features. “Come, I think I must get you safe through your dilemma. Take this; the officer of the night will be satisfied with the explanation, and Monsieur Legrange will not hear of it.”
So saying, he seized a pen, and writing a few lines rapidly on a piece of paper, he folded it note fashion, and handed it to De Beauvais.
“A handsome ring, sir!” said he, suddenly, and holding the fingers within his own; “a very costly one, too.”
“Yes, sir,” said De Beauvais, blushing scarlet. “A cousin of mine—”