'Ah--my luck is good as your wine,' and at that moment I caught sight of Pantin. 'There is another crown to drink to our friendship, and mind you keep as good a flask for me against my return at noon--_au revoir!_ I have a business at my lodging.'
The wretch overwhelmed me with thanks and stood at the door watching me as I crossed over the street, with a warning glance to Pantin, and strolled slowly onwards. A little further on I turned to my left, keeping well in the middle of the road to avoid the filth and refuse thrown carelessly on each side, and as I turned I saw that my man had gone in. I was certain of one thing, that the Toison d'Or was not far off, and whilst I picked my way slowly along Pantin came up to me with his sing-song whine.
'Have you found it?' I asked in a low tone.
At this moment a figure rose up from the steps of a house where I had noticed it crouching, a few feet from me, and swung forwards.
'Hola! 'Tis Monsieur le Capitaine! Has your excellency tasted the Beaugency--the dog-poison. I tell your excellency there is but one house in the Faubourg where they sell it--the Toison d'Or.'
'Go and drink some there, then,' and I tossed him a piece of silver.
He picked it up from the road where it had fallen like a dog snatching at a bone, and then stood surveying the coin, which he held in the open palm of his hand.
'_You_ might,' he said; 'they would not serve me,' and then with a drunken familiarity he came close to my elbow. 'I'll show you the Toison d'Or. It is there--the second turn to the left and then straight before you. As for me, I go back to taste Grigot's Beaugency--his dog-poison,' he repeated with the spiteful insistence of a man in his cups.
'The fool in his folly speaketh wisdom!' Pantin muttered under his breath, and then the man, staggering from me, attempted to go back whence he had been flung, but either the morning air was too strong for him, or else he was taken with a seizure of some kind, for ere he had gone ten paces he fell forwards on his face, and lay there in the slime of the street.
At any other time I would have stopped to assist the man, but now I could only look upon his condition as a direct interposition of Providence and I let him lay where he had fallen.