‘Trust my wife, madame; there will be no difficulty. As usual, when they find themselves under your kind care, they will behave discreetly.’
At this juncture Gavrolles crawled up the gangway, the picture of misery and collapse. No sooner did the woman espy him than she uttered an exclamation.
‘I see another friend!’ she exclaimed to her companion. ‘Go on to my house, and await me there.’
Gavrolles, followed by a porter carrying his portmanteau, elbowed his way along the pier. Suddenly he felt a touch upon his arm, and, turning sharply, saw the woman.
‘Well met, Belleisle!’ she said with a grim smile and a not too amiable compression of the lips.
So worn and washed out was the cosmic creature that at the first glance he failed to recognise his old companion, Madame de Fontenay.
‘What!’ she exclaimed. ‘Do you forget me?’
At last, his glazed and fish-like countenance expressed a dim and irritated recognition.
‘Is it you, Madame Louise?’
‘Yes; it is I!—And you? It is many a long day since we met, though I have often inquired after you in vain. You are a sly rascal, Belleisle; you forget old friends, old services, old debts. Ah! but I remember.’