"It seems to me that I know that woman."
While he was trying to think who it could be, he heard the sound of carriage wheels in the direction of Pantin; and in a moment a cab appeared on the village street, and stopped as near as possible to the foot of the hill leading to the wood.
Sans-Cravate paid no further attention to the woman; he hurried down the slope and soon found himself face to face with Albert, who had left his carriage.
The young man greeted the messenger with a friendly nod, in which there was no trace of resentment or anger, and said, pointing to the cemetery:
"Let us go there; nobody but the men working in the brick kiln can see us, and they will not think of interfering with us; on the contrary, they will be grateful to us for affording them such an entertaining spectacle."
Sans-Cravate made no reply, but went with Albert; the servant walked behind, carrying a case of pistols.
When they reached the road that skirted the cemetery, Albert said:
"I see no reason why we should go any farther.—Give me my pistols, Joseph."
The servant opened the case and, trembling like a leaf, handed the pistols to his master. Meanwhile, the messenger, who had taken his from his pocket, offered them to his adversary, saying:
"Would you prefer to take one of these and give me one of yours? It shall be as you choose."