He saw two cabs approaching.
Calling the first, he began to carry the good idea into immediate execution.
"What is it, monsieur?" inquired the cabman, seeing the body.
"An accident. Quick, cocher!"
With his usual decision Jean thrust the body into the cab and followed it.
"Allez!" he commanded.
"But, monsieur,—the—the—where to?"
"Pont de Solferino, to Boulevard St. Germain. An extra franc, my lad!"
Having vaguely started the cabby, Jean had time to think. He knew the prejudices most people entertain concerning the dead. Especially the prejudices of Paris police agents and cabmen. To give the Rue de Médecine would set the man to speculating. To mention Le Petit Rouge would be to have him hail the first man in uniform.
As to Jean Marot, medical student, du Quartier Latin, in his fourth year, a lifeless body was no more than a bag of sand. It was merely a "subject."