"Pardi! I never believed you were guilty, and I've said so more than once to Sans-Cravate.—Ain't that so, Sans-Cravate? haven't I told you they did wrong to arrest Laboussole, because he was as white as my shirt?"
Sans-Cravate nodded his head; whereupon Laboussole seized his hand and shook it, saying:
"Your good opinion is very pleasant to me, my boys. Yes, I am quite as white as Jean Ficelle's shirt—perhaps a little whiter, even;—but I believe you were going into the wine shop; don't let me keep you."
"On the contrary, you're coming in to have a drink with us. Who ever heard of friends meeting without wetting their whistles?"
"With pleasure, my friends; let's go in; I was just thinking that I felt the need of moistening my lips."
The three men entered the wine shop. Jean Ficelle asked for a small private room, and they were shown into one where there were two tables, both unoccupied. Wine was brought, and the glasses were filled and emptied several times. Monsieur Laboussole seemed overjoyed to have met the two messengers; Jean Ficelle manifested equal satisfaction; and Sans-Cravate himself, after drinking three or four glasses of wine, became very good-humored.
"I say, old fellow," said Jean Ficelle, scrutinizing Laboussole, "seems to me, business must have been pretty good with you since we met. On my word, you're rigged out like a landholder of Ile Saint-Louis! Bigre! what style!"
"Yes," replied Laboussole, drawing himself up in his beaver coat. "I'm in a very pretty line of business now. I have a position in an enterprise that is just being started; I have an idea that I'm going to make my fortune."
"The devil! there's nothing cheap about you!"
"What sort of a business is it?" asked Sans-Cravate.