The young man turned: he gave the importunate speaker a withering stare: he was furious.
The speaker was Vagualame.
"I shall fine you five hundred francs! How dare you accost me like this? Are you mad?" De Loubersac's voice shook with rage.
Lieutenant de Loubersac had just quitted the Second Bureau after an unusually hard day's work. Fatigued by the over-heated offices, he was enjoying the fresh air and exercise in spite of the chilling mist overhanging Paris. When his thoughts were not connected on his work, he would dwell tenderly on every little detail of his meetings with pretty Mademoiselle de Naarboveck. Had she not given him permission to call her Wilhelmine, and did he not cherish the hope of soon making her his wife?
But this Vagualame was insupportable! That he should dare to accost him without observing the customary precautions—hail him by his style and title in a most public thoroughfare—should so imprudently compromise himself and an attaché of the Second Bureau! Well, he knew how to attack informers and such gentry in their most vulnerable spot—their purse; hence the fine of five hundred francs he had imposed on Vagualame!
The old fellow shuffled along beside the enraged lieutenant, whining, complaining of the precarious state of his finances, but de Loubersac was adamant. Perceiving this, Vagualame desisted.
"I want to talk to you," said he.
"To-morrow!" suggested de Loubersac.
"No, at once. It is urgent."
De Loubersac could hardly hear what Vagualame said. Twice he cried, in an irritated voice: