'And that I belong to the rebel party?'
'I do,' he replied in the same tone. 'In fact,' with a grin, 'I
say that you are an honest man on the wrong side, M. de Berault.
And you say that you are a scoundrel on the right. The
advantage, however, is with me, and I shall back my opinion by
arresting you.'
A ripple of coarse laughter ran round the hollow. The sergeant
who held the lanthorn grinned, and a trooper at a distance called
out of the darkness 'A BON CHAT BON RAT!' This brought a fresh
burst of laughter, while I stood speechless, confounded by the
stubbornness, the crassness, the insolence of the man. 'You
fool!' I cried at last, 'you fool!' And then M. de Cocheforet,
who had come out of the hut and taken his stand at my elbow,
interrupted me.
'Pardon me one moment,' he said, airily, looking at the
Lieutenant with raised eyebrows and pointing to me with his
thumb, 'but I am puzzled between you. This gentleman's name? Is
it de Berault or de Barthe?'
'I am M. de Berault,' I said, brusquely, answering for myself.
'Of Paris?'
'Yes, Monsieur, of Paris.
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