"Oh! I will explain that we don't mean to steal, but that we will give him money if he will aid us."
"Very good. Now do you take the lead, I will follow."
Fanfar was strangely preoccupied. While Gudel talked to him a voice was continually repeating in his ear:
"Cinette! Cinette!"
Gudel saw that there was something unusual going on in the mind of his friend. He had been long accustomed to unquestioning obedience to Fanfar. Ever since La Roulante left him after the attempt at assassination, Gudel had been a different man and subject to fits of great depression from which Fanfar alone could rouse him, and when Fanfar rushed into his room calling out, "The police! the police!" Gudel followed him without a question.
Suddenly Gudel stumbled. Fanfar caught him, but it was too late. There was a crash of broken glass. Gudel had broken one of those small windows in the roof which landlords consider sufficient for tenants who pay only sixty francs per annum for their attics. And from this window emerged a long, strange, white object, which was probably a man, as it terminated in a white cotton nightcap. This strange form had two long arms. One hand held a candle and the other sheltered it from the wind. There was a yell of amazement from their throats.
"Fanfar!"
"Bobichel!"
"I thought you were dead, Bobichel," said Iron Jaws, severely.
"No, I am not dead; but I was asleep."