"I have always said proofs of friendship, my dear Murphy."
"Well, monseigneur, never—no, never—has this friendship been exposed to a severer trial than in this present case!" said the squire, with an air half serious, half pleasant.
"What mean you?"
"The disguises of the coalman, the peregrinations in the Cité, and all that sort of thing, they have been as nothing, actually nothing, when compared with the journey I have just made with that infernal Polidori."
"What do you mean? Polidori?"
"I have brought him back with me."
"With you?"
"With me: judge what company! During twelve hours side by side with the man I most despise and hate in the world,—I'd as soon travel with a serpent—any beast of antipathy!"
"And where is Polidori now?"
"In the house in the Allée des Veuves, under good and safe guard."