"And how, monsieur?"
"How? He had a long face that laughed ever, long legs, and a shrewd way of seeming more simple than he was."
"Monsieur flatters me."
"Ah, and a smart rogue, too. I may conclude your profession to be that of relieving the rich of their too excessive luxuries."
François was enchanted with this ingenious and unprejudiced companion, who had, like himself, a sense of the laughable aspects of life.
"Monsieur has hit it," he said gaily; "I am a thief."
No one had taught him to be ashamed of anything but failure in his illegal enterprises.
"Tiens! That is droll;—not that you are a thief: I have known many in my own world. They steal a variety of things, each after his taste in theft—the money of the poor, the character of a man, a woman's honor."
"I scarcely comprehend," said François, who was puzzled.
"They lack your honesty of confession. Could you be altogether honest if a man trusted you?"