François opened the outer door. A strongly built man he had never before seen entered, and, pushing by him, went without a word into the great room beyond.
"Hallo, citizen! What dost thou want?" said François, following him.
"Art thou Citizen Gamel?"
François was not; and what could he do for the citizen?
The man for a moment made no reply, but glanced searchingly about the hall, while the assistant looked him over as keenly. He was a personage not easily to be forgotten.
"No one else here?" he asked.
"No one."
The questioner was a man not over thirty-five, of colossal make, and with something about him which Toto resented. He began to bark, and then, of a sudden, fled under a bench, and watched the newcomer.
His features were out of keeping with his height and breadth. The Jacobin had small, restless eyes, a diminutive nose, perhaps broken, and a large-lipped mouth, which, as he talked, was drawn to one side as though from some loss of power on the other half of the face.
"I am Jean Pierre André Amar," he said, with an air of importance.