CHAPTER VII.
"YOUR MONEY OR YOUR LIFE."
The noise which was made by the shutting of the door aroused Tom and Sarah from their reverie, and they rose, and, having thanked the Chourineur for the information he had given them, the fellow went out, the wind blowing very strongly, and the rain falling in torrents. The Schoolmaster and the Chouette, hidden in an alley opposite the tapis-franc, saw the Chourineur go down the street, in the direction of the street in which the house in ruins was situated. His steps, which were somewhat irregular, in consequence of the frequent libations of the evening, were soon unheard amidst the whistling of the storm and the sheets of rain which dashed against the walls. Sarah and Tom left the tavern in spite of the tempest, and took a contrary direction to the Chourineur.
"They're done for," said the Schoolmaster, in a low key, to the Chouette; "out with your vitriol, and mind your eye."
"Let us take off our shoes, and then they won't hear us as we follow," suggested the Chouette.
"You are right,—always right; let us tread like cats, my old darling."
The two monsters took off their shoes, and moved stealthily along, keeping in the shadows of the houses. By means of this stratagem they followed so closely, that, although within a few steps of Sarah and Tom, they did not hear them.
"Fortunately our hackney-coach is at the end of the street; the rain falls in torrents. Are you not cold, Sarah?"
"Perhaps we shall glean something from this smuggler,—this Bras Rouge," said Sarah, in a thoughtful tone, and not replying to her brother's inquiry.
He suddenly stopped, and said, "I have taken a wrong turning; I ought to have gone to the right when I left the tavern; we must pass by a house in ruins to reach the fiacre. We must turn back."