"A stripling like you to pretend to fool me! Come, produce your
papers, or--"
"La! la! citizen, I'm not such a babe as I look to be. Why should I
answer you? Who are you?"
"The commander of this department," answered Hulot.
"Oh, then, of course, the matter is serious; I am taken with arms in
my hand," and he held a glass full of Bordeaux to the soldier.
"I am not thirsty," said Hulot. "Come, your papers."
At that instant the rattle of arms and the tread of men was heard in
the street. Hulot walked to the window and gave a satisfied look which
made Mademoiselle de Verneuil tremble. That sign of interest on her
part seemed to fire the young man, whose face had grown cold and
haughty. After feeling in the pockets of his coat he drew forth an
elegant portfolio and presented certain papers to the commandant,
which the latter read slowly, comparing the description given in the
passport with the face and figure of the young man before him. During
this prolonged examination the owl's cry rose again; but this time
there was no difficulty whatever in recognizing a human voice. The
commandant at once returned the papers to the young man, with a
scoffing look.
"That's all very fine," he said; "but I don't like the music. You will
come with me to headquarters."
"Why do you take him there?" asked Mademoiselle de Verneuil, in a tone
of some excitement.
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