“That is the whole story. Ruffard was the third in the job with me and Godet——”
“Arrache-Laine?” cried Jacques Collin, giving Ruffard his nickname among the gang.
“That’s the man.—And the blackguards peached because I knew where they had hidden their whack, and they did not know where mine was.”
“You are making it all easy, my cherub!” said Jacques Collin.
“What?”
“Well,” replied the master, “you see how wise it is to trust me entirely. Your revenge is now part of the hand I am playing.—I do not ask you to tell me where the dibs are, you can tell me at the last moment; but tell me all about Ruffard and Godet.”
“You are, and you always will be, our boss; I have no secrets from you,” replied la Pouraille. “My money is in the cellar at la Gonore’s.”
“And you are not afraid of her telling?”
“Why, get along! She knows nothing about my little game!” replied la Pouraille. “I make her drunk, though she is of the sort that would never blab even with her head under the knife.—But such a lot of gold——!”
“Yes, that turns the milk of the purest conscience,” replied Jacques Collin.