"It isn't? Why, do you know what the reason is?"
"Dame! we have our suspicions. In the first place, perhaps he ain't a messenger any longer; he had more than one trade."
"More than one trade? What do you mean?"
"Oh! there's something mysterious about it; he's a man of mystery, is your Monsieur Paul."
"I don't understand."
"The fellow didn't tell everything he did, you see; and then, there may be another reason. As the young joker has stolen Sans-Cravate's mistress, he's afraid of getting a licking, and dursn't come and stand beside him—see?"
"And he does well," muttered Sans-Cravate, clenching his fists; "for a man can't always control himself; and, sacrédié! he'd better look out! I've got a score to settle with him, all the more because he was my friend; and when you hate your friends, you hate 'em worse than you do anybody else."
Elina had turned very pale; she gazed at the two messengers in turn, but could not speak, for what she had heard seemed to have deprived her of strength and voice alike; not until several minutes had elapsed did she succeed in faltering:
"What! Monsieur Paul—has stolen—the mistress of—of—— Oh, no! no! that is impossible!"
"Impossible!" sneered Jean Ficelle. "Ah! my pretty creature, you don't know men yet, and you don't know what they're capable of. But we're sure of what we say; we caught the thief in the market, as the saying is. Look you, I'll give you a comparison——"