Somebody's shadow fell across the road, and at the same time they heard these words:
"Excuse me, gentlemen!"
The person who had uttered them was a little man attired in an ample brown frock-coat, and with a cap on his head which under its peak afforded a glimpse of a sharp nose.
"Monsieur Roque?" said Frederick.
"The very man!" returned the voice.
This resident in the locality explained his presence by stating that he had come back to inspect the wolf-traps in his garden near the water-side.
"And so you are back again in the old spot? Very good! I ascertained the fact through my little girl. Your health is good, I hope? You are not going away again?"
Then he left them, repelled, probably, by Frederick's chilling reception.
Madame Moreau, indeed, was not on visiting terms with him. Père Roque lived in peculiar relations with his servant-girl, and was held in very slight esteem, although he was the vice-president at elections, and M. Dambreuse's manager.
"The banker who resides in the Rue d'Anjou," observed Deslauriers. "Do you know what you ought to do, my fine fellow?"