"I am free, monsieur," he said. "No matter how. And I have bargained for your own head." He briefly related so much of his talk with Grégoire as concerned the marquis.
Ste. Luce looked at him. "Pardie! You are an unusual type of thief—or man. I would thank you if I considered my head worth much. But, after all, it is a natural attachment one's body has for one's head, or one's head for one's body, to put it correctly. Will it be wasted money, my admirable thief, or will the rascal keep his word?"
"Yes; he will keep his word—after we get through with the affair."
"You are a great man, François, but I have not the money. I lost it last night to Delavigne. I will get the loan of it. Rather a new idea to borrow one's head! Wait a little." He came back in a few minutes. "It pretty well cleaned out two of them. Good luck to you; and if ever we are out of this hole, we must fence a little. By the way, I hear they took that poor devil Despard to-day. It is a relief. He bored me atrociously."
"Yes; they took him in your place, monsieur. It was to have been to-day—"
"To-day! In my place? Tiens! that is droll."
"Yes."
"But how—why?"
"No matter now. I will tell monsieur some day."
"Are you a magician, Master François?"