The decided tone in which Sans-Cravate spoke convinced Jean Ficelle that it would be useless for him to insist; so he went away alone, shrugging his shoulders contemptuously and saying:
"As you please. I'll get along without you; I can find some friend who'll offer me a bottle."
Sans-Cravate was conscious of a secret satisfaction in not having yielded; he rested his head on his hands again, and was soon absorbed in thought—probably of Bastringuette, whom he had sworn to forget. Suddenly he felt a light tap on his shoulder; he looked up and saw Albert before him.
"What! is it you, monsieur?" he cried, overjoyed at the reappearance of his generous customer. "Ah! it's a long while since we have seen you; I was speaking of you only a moment ago."
"Yes, Sans-Cravate, it is I; I have been in Paris only a week, and I was absent more than two months. But I need you at once. Are you at liberty?"
"Always, monsieur, always at your service. You know that I am devoted to you."
"Yes, yes; I am well aware of your zeal, and I know that I can rely on your discretion, too; and that is why I have come for you. Listen; I need someone who is strong and active; I have brought a lovely girl back to Paris with me."
"Oho! I recognize you there, monsieur."
"You understand that my father must know nothing of this episode!"
"Of course not, monsieur."