“Vrai Dieu!” he exclaimed, “you are a good fellow!”
“One condition,” said the man. “Prove to me that I have been wrong and that you were speaking the truth. Hide me in some corner whence I can see whether this woman is really the one whose name you uttered.”
“Oh!” replied Phœbus, “’tis all one to me. We will take, the Sainte-Marthe chamber; you can look at your ease from the kennel hard by.”
“Come then,” said the shadow.
“At your service,” said the captain, “I know not whether you are Messer Diavolus in person; but let us be good friends for this evening; to-morrow I will repay you all my debts, both of purse and sword.”
They set out again at a rapid pace. At the expiration of a few minutes, the sound of the river announced to them that they were on the Pont Saint-Michel, then loaded with houses.
“I will first show you the way,” said Phœbus to his companion, “I will then go in search of the fair one who is awaiting me near the Petit-Châtelet.”
His companion made no reply; he had not uttered a word since they had been walking side by side. Phœbus halted before a low door, and knocked roughly; a light made its appearance through the cracks of the door.
“Who is there?” cried a toothless voice.
“Corps-Dieu! Tête-Dieu! Ventre-Dieu!” replied the captain.