"I should like to tell the citizen commissioner what I have to say. I—I did not know just how to frame it."
Meanwhile Grégoire was considering him with unsteady eyes. "Ah, now I have it; now I remember thee. Thou art an ex-émigré. I shall attend to thee. It was thou who stole my wallet of papers; and thou couldst laugh, too. Ciel! what a laugh! Try it now."
François replied that he was no émigré; as to the rest, he could explain; and leaning over, he said quietly:
"You will do well to hear what I have to say."
"'You will do well'! Idiot! Why dost thou say 'you, you'? Cursed aristocrat that thou art! Say 'thou' when thou dost address me, or I shall—where is that report?"
"If the citizen will listen. There was in that wallet a little paper addressed to Citizen de la Vicomterie. Dame! it was good reading, and I have it still."
"Thou hast it? Thou wilt not have it long."
Grégoire was not over-intelligent, and had now the short temper of drink. The prisoner tried to get a moment in which to explain that another held the document.
Grégoire was past hearing reason. "Officers, here! here!" he cried. "Search this man! Search him. Strip him. Here! here!"
François did not stir. "When thou hast done we can talk."