"I'll tell you—"
"One moment," said the Chourineur, with a downcast and embarrassed air, taking Murphy by the arm; "listen whilst I say a word to you, which perhaps M. Rodolph did not tell you, but which I ought not to conceal from the master who employs me, because, if he is offended by it—why then, you see—why, afterwards—"
"What do you mean to say?"
"I mean to say—"
"Well, what?"
"That I am a convict, who has served his time,—that I have been at the Bagne," said Chourineur, in a low voice.
"Indeed!" replied Murphy.
"But I never did wrong to any one," exclaimed the Chourineur; "and I would sooner die of hunger than rob; but I have done worse than rob," he added, bending his head down; "I have killed my fellow creature in a passion. But that is not all," he continued, after a moment's pause. "I will tell everything to my employer; I would rather be refused at first than detected afterwards. You know him, and if you think he would refuse me, why, spare me the refusal, and I will go as I came."
"Come along with me," said Murphy.
The Chourineur followed Murphy up the staircase; a door opened, and they were both in the presence of Rodolph.