"'Well, at all events, there's only one here,' said the first who had spoken. 'What's the odds? Bah! we will bury the one that is here, and then say that his friend had escaped; or it may be that they didn't count right.'
"They set about digging a grave; and Perrot, who was tottering away little by little, was glad to hear the jovial digger say to his companion,—
"'It has just occurred to me that if we admit that we found only one body, and dig only one grave, the man will give us only five pistoles, perhaps, instead of ten. Wouldn't it be better for our pockets to say nothing about this extraordinary escape of the second corpse?'
"'Yes, faith!' replied his devout companion. 'Let us content ourselves with saying that we have accomplished our task; and then we shall have told no lie.'
"Meanwhile, Perrot, faint as death, had got as far as Rue Aubry-le-Boucher. There he hailed a market gardener's wagon, returning from market, and asked the driver where he was going.
"'To Montreuil,' was the reply.
"'Then will you be kind enough to give me a lift as far as the corner of Rue Geoffroy L'Asnier and Rue St. Antoine, where I live?'
"'Get in,' said the gardener.
"In this way Perrot made the greater part of the journey to our lodgings without much fatigue; and yet ten times on the way he thought that he was dying. At last the wagon stopped at Rue Geoffroy L'Asnier.
"'Well, here you are at home, my friend,' said the gardener.