Of course I knew that it was his old friend's misfortune which weighed upon him; he was proud and fond of Fidèle.
I seated myself, and waited for him to speak. In a moment he began, with a low, hard laugh: “_Semble que notre bon Fidèle a sa démission_: you know,--our Fidèle got bounced!”
Yes, I said, Fidèle had told me so, and I was very sorry to hear it.
“_Evidemment_” (this in a tone of irony) “_il faut un homme plus juste, plus loyale, que le pauvre Fidèle!_ (You know,--they got to 'ave one more honester man!) _Bien!_ You know who goin' 'ave 'is place?”
Sorel laid down his hat, and wiped his brow with his handkerchief. Then he went on, no longer speaking in French and then translating,--his usual concession to my supposed desires,--but mostly now in quasi-English: “_Mais_, you thing this great _gouvernement_ wan' hones' men work for her, _n'est-ce pas?_”
“The government ought to have the most honest men,” I said.
“_Bien_. Now you thing the _gouvernement_ boun' to 'ave some men w'at mos' know the business, _n'est-ce pas?_”
Sorel wiped his brow again. “Now, w'ich you thing the mos' honestes' man,--Fidèle, or-- _Carron?_ W'ich you thing know the business bes',--Fidèle, w'at been there, or Carron, w'at ain' been there?”
“Then tell me, w'at for they bounce' our Fidèle, and let Carron got 'is place?” and he burst into a harsh, resonant, contemptuous laugh. In a moment he resumed: “Now,” he said, “I only got one more thing to ax you,” and taking his felt hat in his hands, he held it on his knees, before him, and stooping a little forward, eyed me closely: “You know w'at we talk sometimes, you an' me, 'bout our Frensh _république_--some _Orléanistes_, some _Légitimistes_, some _Bonapartistes?_ You merember 'ow we talk, you and me?”
“We ain' got no _Orléanistes_, no _Bonapartistes' ici_, in this _gouvernement, n'est-ce pas?_”
“Now,” he proceeded, with an increased bitterness in his tone and his hard smile, “I use' thing you one good frien' to me, _mais_, you been makin' fool of me all that time!”
“You don't think any such thing,” I said.
“You know,” he went on, “who bounce our Fidèle?”
Sorel received my reply with a low, incredulous laugh. Then he laid his hat down on the floor, drew his chair closer, held out his finger, and, with the air of one who shows another that he knows his secret he demanded:--