* * *
On the same morning, Croniamantal coming from Brünn had arrived at Marseilles to look for Tristouse who had been there since the evening before with Paponat. All three mingled in the crowd which acclaimed Tograth before the hotel where he was to stop.
"Happy tumult," said Tristouse, "You are not a poet, Paponat, you have learned things which are worth infinitely more than poetry. Is it not true, Paponat, that you are in no way a poet?"
"Indeed, my dear," replied Paponat, "I have rhymed at times in order to amuse myself, but I am not a poet, I am an excellent business man and no one knows better than I how to manage an estate."
"Tonight you must mail a letter to La Voix of Adelaide; you must tell them all that, and so you will be safe."
"I shall not fail to do that," said Paponat. "Did you ever hear of such a thing, a poet! That goes for Croniamantal."
"I hope to God," said Tristouse, "that they will massacre him in Brünn where he expects to find us."
"But there he is right now," whispered Paponat. "He is in the crowd. He is hiding himself and hasn't seen us."
"I wish they would hurry up and massacre him," sighed Tristouse. "I have an idea that that will happen soon."
"Look," exclaimed Paponat, "here comes the hero."