"Monsieur is wiser than I, then!" replied François. "They say, down in our quarter, that he went to bury his master and has not returned. I assure monsieur that not one of his old friends has set eyes on him for a long time past."
The man spoke so straightforwardly that even Raoul believed he was telling the truth, though it seemed strange, if Pillot were really back again, that none of his acquaintances should be aware of it. Why had he kept himself hidden all this time?
"We want to find him," said Raoul after a pause, "but not to do him any injury. Suppose he has returned to Paris—if he ever went away—where is he most likely to be? I assure you, François, that he has nothing to fear from us."
"I cannot tell, monsieur. I think you must have made a mistake. If he were inside the walls I should have seen him. He has not been back to any of his usual haunts."
Evidently there was no information to be obtained from François, so Raoul gave him some money and let him go.
"Perhaps the fellow was right in saying you had made a mistake," remarked Humphreys, but this I would not admit. Not only had I seen Pillot, but he had recognised me.
"Let us try at La Boule d'Or," Raoul suggested, "and, if that is useless, we will not bother any further. After all, it really is of small consequence one way or the other."
The famous inn was crowded as usual, but Raoul conducted us to a private room, where, in a few minutes, we were joined by the landlord. He remembered me immediately, and began to speak of the trick I had played on the dwarf.
"We have come to meet Pillot," interrupted Raoul playing a bold game; "tell him we are here."
"But, monsieur, it is impossible! He is not in my house. He has been here only once since monsieur tied him up. It would not be a safe place for him. Besides, I have heard that he is no longer in Paris. Monsieur can search the place himself if he wishes. At the present, the inn is empty of guests. Two friends of the prince have been staying here, but they departed yesterday."