“Ah! what an unhappy creature I am!”
And Léonie had recourse to her usual expedient—she fainted; but she was careful to fall toward Auguste, who found himself with his neighbor in his arms. At that moment little Tony came upstairs and said that it was impossible to understand what Schtrack said, as he was drunk. Auguste gently laid Léonie on the stairs and told Tony to look after her; then he went down to interview his concierge, who was half asleep and could hardly speak.
“Has Bertrand come in?” demanded Auguste, shaking the old German’s arm; whereupon he raised his head and sent a puff of wine-laden breath into the young man’s face as he hiccoughed:
“Pertrand! sacretié! Pertrand!”
“Come, Schtrack, speak out; you were with him, weren’t you?”
“Ya.”
“Where is he?”
“Haf you not found him?”
“If I had found him, should I be questioning you? Where is he? where did you leave him? why didn’t he come home with you?”
“Sacretié! I vas not strong enough to carry Pertrand; he could not valk no more; but ve haf ein pig lot trunken.”