This man was the cabman who had brought Jean Marot to Le Petit Rouge.
The veteran commissary, however, flinched only for an instant. Having served many years in the Quartier Latin, he was no stranger to the pranks and customs of medical students. The next instant he had his foot in the doorway, to retain his advantage, and was calling his men a choice assortment of Parisian names. To emphasize this he entered and gave Madame la Concierge a kick that caused her poor old bones to rattle.
"For shame!" cried young Massard, laughingly, turning up the light. "To kick an old woman!"
"Now here, gentlemen, students,—you are a nice lot!"
"Thanks! Monsieur le Commissaire," replied Lerouge, with a polite bow.
"You are quite aware, gentlemen," continued the stern official, "that you are responsible at this moment for any injury to my men?"
"No, monsieur," retorted Lerouge in his dry fashion; "but, if any bones are broken we'll set 'em."
"Free of charge," added Villeroy.
"I want none of your impudence, monsieur! What's your name?"
"George Villeroy, 7 Rue du Pot de Fer, medical student, aged twenty-four, single, born at Tours."