, another
person besides, in the Rue du Roule. I see all about it--'"

[8] Receiver of stolen goods.

"My mistake was not to have told you all, my good fellow; then this
horrible result would not have occurred."

"That was your affair, M. Rodolph; all that concerned me was to serve
you; for, truth to say, I don't know how or why, but, as I have told you
before, I feel as if I were your bulldog. But that's enough. I said,
then, 'M. Rodolph pays me for my time, so my time is his, and I will
employ it for him.' Then an idea strikes me: the Schoolmaster is
cunning, he may suspect a trap. M. Rodolph will propose to him the job
for to-morrow, it is true, but the 'downy cove' is likely enough to come
to-day and lurk about, and reconnoitre the ground, and if he is
suspicious of M. Rodolph he will bring some other 'cracksman' (robber)
with him, and do the trick on his own account. To prevent this, I said
to myself, 'I must go and plant myself somewhere where I may get a view
of the walls, the garden-gate,--there is no other entrance. If I find a
snug corner, as it rains, I will remain there all day, perhaps all
night, and to-morrow morning I shall be all right and ready to go to M.
Rodolph's.' So I goes to the Allee des Veuves to place myself, and what
should I see but a small tavern, not ten paces from your door! I entered
and took my seat near the window, in a room on the ground floor. I
called for a quart of drink and a quart of nuts, saying I expected some
friends,--a humpbacked man and a tall woman. I chose them because it
would appear more natural. I was very comfortably seated, and kept my
eye on the door. It rained cats and dogs; no one passed; night came
on--"

"But," interrupted Rodolph, "why did you not go at once to my house?"

"You told me to come the next day morning, M. Rodolph, and I didn't dare
return there sooner; I should have looked like an intruder,--a sneak
(_brosseur_), as the troopers call it. You understand? Well, there I was
at the window of the wine-shop, cracking my nuts and drinking my liquor,
when, through the fog, I saw the Chouette approach, accompanied by Bras
Rouge's brat, little Tortillard. 'Ah, ah!' said I to myself, 'now the
farce begins!' Well, the little hound of a child hid himself in one of
the ditches of the Allee, and was evidently on the lookout. As for
that----, the Chouette, she takes off her bonnet, puts it into her
pocket, and rings the gate-bell. Our poor friend, M. Murphy,