“Hush!” whispered Longcluse, sternly.
“There is no one,” murmured little Lebas, looking round, but dropping his voice to a whisper. “He also saves a neck sometimes from the blade of the guillotine.”
Longcluse frowned, a little embarrassed. Lebas smiled archly. In a moment Longcluse's impatient frown broke into a mysterious smile that responded.
“May I say one word more, and make one request of Monsieur, which I hope he will not think very impertinent?” asked Monsieur Lebas, who had just been on the point of taking his leave.
“It mayn't be in my power to grant it; but you can't be what you say—I am too much obliged to you—so speak quite freely,” said Longcluse.
So they talked a little more and parted, and Monsieur Lebas went on his way.
