“And now for your name; let’s have that,” said he, seating himself, as if for a lengthy cross-examination.
I stole a quick glance over head, and seeing that two of the officers were eagerly listening to our colloquy, said aloud,
“I’ll tell you no more, sir. You have already heard quite enough to know what my business is. I didn’t come here to relate my life and adventures.”
“I say, Lestocque,” cried a large, burly man, from above, “have you picked up Robinson Crusoe, there?”
“He’s far more like the man, Friday, mon general,” said the young lieutenant, laughing, “although even a savage might have more deference for his superiors.”
“What does he want, then?” asked the other.
“An audience of yourself, mon general—nothing less.”
“Have you told him how I am accustomed to reward people who occupy my time on false pretences, Lestocque?” said the general, with a grin. “Does he know that the Salle de Police first, and the Prevot afterward comprise my gratitude?”
“He presumes to say, sir, that he knows General Massena,” said the lieutenant.
“Diable! He knows me, does he say—he knows me? Who is he—what is he?” said a voice I well remembered, and at the same instant the brown, dark visage of General Massena peered over the balcony.