"I have not seen that hamper for—for ever so long," remarked the Doctor.
"Nor will you see it much longer," chuckled Casimir; "unless, indeed, we interfere. And by the way, I insist on an examination."
"You will not require," said Desprez, positively with a sob; and, casting a moist, triumphant glance at Casimir, he began to run.
"What the devil is up with him, I wonder?" Casimir reflected; and then, curiosity taking the upper hand, he followed the Doctor's example and took to his heels.
The hamper was so heavy and large, and Jean-Marie himself so little and so weary, that it had taken him a great while to bundle it upstairs to the Desprez' private room; and he had just set it down on the floor in front of Anastasie, when the Doctor arrived, and was closely followed by the man of business. Boy and hamper were both in a most sorry plight; for the one had passed four months underground in a certain cave on the way to Achères, and the other had run about five miles as hard as his legs would carry him, half that distance under a staggering weight.
"Jean-Marie," cried the Doctor, in a voice that was only too seraphic to be called hysterical, "is it? It is!" he cried. "O, my son, my son!" And he sat down upon the hamper and sobbed like a little child.
"You will not go to Paris now," said Jean-Marie sheepishly.
"Casimir," said Desprez, raising his wet face, "do you see that boy, that angel boy? He is the thief;
