"Mr. Gendarme," he said, "we are honest folk, I would have you know, and you have no right to insult us like that, and to add to my sister's trouble when she has so much to bear already."
The brigadier grew angry at once because a mere boy had the audacity to speak so to one of such importance as himself.
"Hold your tongue, you brat!" he shouted. "How dare you speak to me. You are showing disrespect to the law."
"Mr. Gendarme," responded Cæsar in a submissive tone, and bowing humbly before the great man. "I beg your pardon. I had no intention of being insolent, I assure you. I do beg your pardon, sir."
The brigadier became more gracious. Cæsar's politic apology appeased his wrath.
"'Tis well, youngster," he growled, as he gave his big mustache a ferocious twist. "In view of your age, and of the humble apology you have made, I pardon you, but don't presume to speak until you are asked. Now, Durien," he called to the other gendarme, "we will make a search of the vans there," pointing out those belonging to the other mountebanks which still remained.
But their search had no result, and the brigadier then announced that Nadine, Cæsar, and Abel must accompany him to the town-hall, where the sous-préfet would examine them before giving orders for a more thorough search about the neighborhood.
This announcement distressed Nadine greatly.
"Oh, sir!" she pleaded, "don't do that! Leave us free to look for Lydia without losing another minute, or it will soon be too late. If she has been carried off by evil men they are getting farther away all the time, and we shan't be able to overtake them. Oh, please let us alone, so that we may do our best to find her!"
But the brigadier was obdurate. Having once made known what in his great wisdom he thought the proper course to pursue, he was not to be turned aside from it by a mere chit of a girl.