"Dame!" he cried, "madame must weep." She was already doing that, her mind on the fate of M. des Illes. "If you boys are fools, and laugh, we are lost. Cry, if you can; but, for the love of Heaven, do not look about you, or smile. Take a hand of madame—so. Cry, if ever you mean to get away safe."
The road beyond the quarry was little used, and they went on, the duke furious. When they met any one, François cried: "Get on, aristocrat! Pig of a ci-devant, march!"
Duke Philippe muttered: "Sacré, thief!" and got a smart jerk of the rope, and more abuse, until the fun of it nearly upset the thief, who could scarce contain himself. At the Barrière d'Enfer were but two guards; nor were there as many people in the streets as usual.
Suddenly François halted at the summons to leave his prisoner with one of the two men, and to enter the little office and exhibit his papers, as was needful.
"Dame!" muttered the thief, "one cannot know all things. I forgot about the papers." He showed, however, no indecision. "Guard this wretch, citizen," he said. "Here, take the rope. He is a returned émigré." The man took the rope. "I shall not be long." So saying, he went in after the second guard, closing the door behind them. The man sat down at a desk, and opened a blank-book, saying: "The order, citizen."
"I am afraid it is lost," said François, eagerly searching his acquired pockets. "The mischief! What to do?"
"To do? Thou must wait till the lieutenant comes back. He has gone to see the fun."
"Fun! What fun?"
At this moment the man rose hastily. "Diable! thou art François! I thought I knew thy voice. There are orders to arrest thee. Citizen Amar desires thy society. Best make no fuss. I arrest thee. I am in luck. It is sure promotion. What trick art thou up to? And those folks outside, who axe they?"
"But thou, an old thief, to arrest a comrade! Surely thou wilt not."