"Good!" said Jean.
"He won't get in," she repeated, listening. "Monsieur Benoit will never let anybody in who makes a racket like that."
"Not even the police?"
"No,—he will not hear them."
"Oh! ho! ho! ho!" roared Jean; "not hear that!"
"I mean he would affect not to know that it was the police."
She went to a window and listened at the shutter. Then, returning to her guest, who was placidly smoking,—
"It is the police, sure."
"I knew it."
"Now, what do you suppose the agents want at this hour?" It was one o'clock by the little bronze timepiece on the mantel.