"Old Madame Caraman and Coucon."
Fanfar passed his hand over his troubled brow. "My dear old friend," he said, "take pity on me, and tell me all you know; do not compel me to ask so many questions."
"Well, then, listen. You as well as I, became a little anxious because we had heard nothing of Monsieur Esperance for so long. I have found out that the night of the soirée, while we were saving those two old people in there, he was also doing something of the same kind."
"Did he not go home then, as we supposed?"
"Not he! He did not go home for over two hours, then he and Monsieur Goutran had a person with them who had been wounded—a young girl—she had been shot!"
"What preposterous tale is this?"
"It is true, sir. I did not believe it myself, at first, and as I felt sure you would doubt the story, I took the liberty of bringing the witnesses with me. Caraman and Coucon are here, sir."
"Oh! Bobichel, why could you not have said this before? Let me see them at once, and I swear that I will get at the truth!"
Fanfar, in addition to his impatience, felt a certain remorse. If any accident happened to Esperance he felt in a measure responsible.