O'Hara felt more and more puzzled at the extraordinary conduct of this extraordinary person, and couldn't help looking out after him, when he heard the unexpected merriment. The stranger was descending and encountered his bewildered stare.
'Look out of the other window,' cried he; 'blessed if it ain't that inquisitive dog!'
O'Hara complied, and discovered the cause of all the commotion.
It was Pat, the foundling dog, who was panting on the pavement, the threadbare coat of the man who had befriended him held between his teeth![9]
The faithful creature was at once, of course, received into the carriage, and the driver was ordered to proceed rapidly to the Place du Panthéon, taking the Boulevard St. Michel on his way.
'We shall call into la Jeune France on the route,' said the stranger, 'and get this poor little wench something to revive her.'
The girl caught the words and made signs of dissent at the mention of la Jeune France, which is a famous coffee-house much affected by roystering students and the frail partners of their revels. As soon as she could find language, she uttered a feeble but emphatic 'No.'
'What! You turn up your nose at la Jeune France. Well, we'll cut it. Driver, straight to the Panthéon. Nevertheless, my child, it was there I met your dead friend first!'
'No, never,' cried the girl with gathering energy. 'Poor Caroline!' and she burst into a comforting flood of tears.
'Poor Caroline, indeed! How many aliases had she? When I knew her last she was called Marguerite la modiste,[10] and that was no later than last night.'