“Ah! the double-dyed villain!—We are ruined, lieutenant!”
“Don’t get excited, Bertrand; perhaps this intelligence is false. I can’t believe that Destival——”
“That’s what I told Bichette; I couldn’t believe it either.”
“But how do you know? Who told you that Destival has gone?”
“I’ll tell you, monsieur: he sold my shop for me not long ago, and kept the money to invest; and I gave him six thousand francs more a week ago, because he said that the more he had, the better investments he could make. And yet Bichette wasn’t very much inclined to leave our money with him. But Monsieur Bisbis advised her to leave it, so—Do you take snuff?”
“I must go at once to Destival’s,” said Auguste, interrupting Monin in the middle of his speech.
“Yes, lieutenant,” said Bertrand, “that will be much better than listening to monsieur. Go, don’t lose any time; and meanwhile I’ll go and try to find out something about which way the villain has gone. Perhaps he ain’t far away yet, and if we have to founder ten horses, we’ll catch him!”
“If you do catch him, Monsieur Bertrand, remember that I’m in for twenty-five thousand francs,” said Monin. But nobody was listening to him; Auguste was already on the staircase and the corporal lost no time in following him. Monin, finding that he was left alone with the little groom, decided to leave Dalville’s abode and to return to his own.
“At the rate they’re going,” he thought, “there’s no doubt that those gentlemen will succeed in catching our man; so I’ll go home and encourage Bichette.”
Auguste betook himself to the business agent’s abode. He inquired for Destival of the concierge, who replied: