Bahuchet and Miretta doubled their pace. The sometime clerk knew his Paris perfectly, and the streets one could take to lessen the distance. In a short time they reached Rue des Francs-Bourgeois. The little man stopped at a vacant lot, where building materials had been dropped.
"This is the place; it is very convenient for a private conversation, you see."
"It is well. Remain here, while I go to fetch my mistress."
"She will not be long?"
"I promise you that she will be here within half an hour."
"Very good! Above all things, do not let her bring one of her tall lackeys with her! If I see one of them in the distance, off I go, and I give you my word that you will not catch me!"
"Do you think that my mistress is setting a trap for you, Monsieur Bahuchet?"
"No, pretty brunette, I certainly do not think that; but, look you, when one has been thrashed as I was, one may well retain some apprehension."
"Fie! a man, and afraid! At least, you should not admit it. I am only a woman, but I have never known what fear is!—Stay here, Monsieur Bahuchet, and fear nothing; you will be handsomely paid."
Miretta fled with the swiftness of a deer; and Bahuchet seated himself on a stone, saying to himself: