“Well, having done the trick, you ought to have had a Russian passport, have made up as a Russian prince, bought a fine coach with a coat-of-arms on it, have boldly deposited your money in a bank, have got a letter of credit on Hamburg, and then have set out posting to Hamburg with a valet, a ladies’ maid, and your mistress disguised as a Russian princess. At Hamburg you should have sailed for Mexico. A chap of spirit, with two hundred and eighty thousand francs in gold, ought to be able to do what he pleases and go where he pleases, flathead!”
“Oh yes, you have such notions because you are the boss. Your nut is always square on your shoulders—but I——”
“In short, a word of good advice in your position is like broth to a dead man,” said Jacques Collin, with a serpentlike gaze at his old pal.
“True enough!” said la Pouraille, looking dubious. “But give me the broth, all the same. If it does not suit my stomach, I can warm my feet in it——”
“Here you are nabbed by the Justice, with five robberies and three murders, the latest of them those of two rich and respectable folks.... Now, juries do not like to see respectable folks killed. You will be put through the machine, and there is not a chance for you.”
“I have heard all that,” said la Pouraille lamentably.
“My aunt Jacqueline, with whom I have just exchanged a few words in the office, and who is, as you know, a mother to the pals, told me that the authorities mean to be quit of you; they are so much afraid of you.”
“But I am rich now,” said La Pouraille, with a simplicity which showed how convinced a thief is of his natural right to steal. “What are they afraid of?”
“We have no time for philosophizing,” said Jacques Collin. “To come back to you——”
“What do you want with me?” said la Pouraille, interrupting his boss.