At this the tall gendarme laughed audibly for the first time during the evening. Gaillard felt relieved. "He can laugh," he murmured.
"Wait one moment and I will give you a light," he said, and taking a piece of paper from the chimney-piece he carelessly twisted it in his fingers, ignited it in the candle's flames, and held it over Jean's pipe. Then he repeated the service to Gendarme Pierre, and ended by lighting his own pipe, holding the offending list until the flame touched his fingers and it was entirely consumed.
"Forward, my children!" cried the stout gendarme gayly. "We must be off. Shall we place seals upon the doors, comrade?" he said addressing his friend Pierre.
"No, my little idiot Jean, you will remember we are not supposed to have come here at all. The seals will be placed here by men from the section. Hurry forward now."
They descended the stairs in single file. The tall gendarme leading, and stout Jean bringing up the rear. He would stumble from time to time and strike his head into Gaillard's shoulders. "Very awkward stairs," he would murmur in apology, "very awkward."
Once in the street he got along better, although his knees were a little weak, and he showed an inclination to sing.
"Be quiet, Jean," expostulated his companion in arms; "you will get both of us in trouble."
"As mute as a mouse, my clothespin," was the obedient reply.
"You would better take his arm, citizen actor. We shall get along faster." Gaillard complied, and arm in arm they walked off in the direction of the Luxembourg.
"What's this?" demanded the warden in the prison lodge, rubbing his sleepy eyes as three men appeared before him in the gray light of early morning.