"But what then?" said the duke. "It is only a grave you have opened. You might as well have kept quiet."
The thief's feelings were hurt; he began to care less and less for this useless nobleman.
Madame said thoughtfully: "It may be a way out. If it come to the worst, we can but try it."
"Madame is right; and as to keeping quiet, I never could. Sleeping cats catch no rats." He believed in his luck. "We shall get out," he said, with cool assurance. "I always do. I have been in many scrapes. I got out of the Madelonnettes, and I was once near to decorating a rope."
"A rope!" exclaimed madame.
"Yes. Parbleu! I wear my cravat loose ever since. I like to have full swing, but not in that way." He was gay and talkative. The boys liked it; but not so the duke, who said:
"Well, what next?"
"We must explore. I will enter and see a little."
"But," said the woman, "you will get lost; and then, what to do?" She had come to trust the thief. He saw this, and liked it. "If we lose you, what shall we do?—what shall we do?"
The thief turned to her as he stood, lantern in hand. He was grave. "Madame, I am a poor thief of the streets; I have had to live as I could; and since I was a boy I can count the kind words ever said to me by man or woman. I shall not forget."