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I can assure you that you have not the least chance of success. Remember that you will seriously compromise yourself. Who knows if you will not be suspected as M. Bertomy's accomplice?" But this alarming perspective, which had frightened Cavaillon into foolishly giving up a letter which he might so easily have retained, only stimulated Gypsy's enthusiasm.
The new-comer was no other than Cavaillon, more troubled and frightened than ever. He looked uneasily around the room, as if he expected the whole police force to appear, and carry him off to prison.
His note written, Prosper folded it carefully into the smallest possible size, and after furtively glancing toward the detective, who remained motionless in his corner, threw it across the desk to little Cavaillon with this one word: "Gypsy!" All this was so quickly and skilfully done that Fanferlot was confounded, and began to feel a little uneasy.
He would have been very prepossessing but for a cold, reserved English-like manner, and a certain air of self-sufficiency which spoiled his naturally bright, open countenance. "Ah, here you are!" cried Cavaillon, "someone has just been asking for you." "Who? An iron-manufacturer, was it not?" "Exactly." "Well, he will come back again.
Almost certainly all the inhabitants of Arles, Tarascon, Glanum, and Cavaillon, all Graeco-Gaulish towns, took refuge on the plateau of the limestone hills. The barbarians could not go south of the Alpines, because the whole region was desert, or was covered with lagoons.
My life may depend on your obedience. "I am accused of an immense robbery, and am about to be arrested. Take with you five hundred francs which you will find in the secretary. "Leave your address with Cavaillon, who will explain what I have not time to tell. Be hopeful, whatever happens. Good-by.
Leaving next morning at daybreak, we walked on before breakfast to Orgon, a little village in a corner of the cliffs which border the Durance, and crossed the muddy river by a suspension bridge a short distance below, to Cavaillon, where the country-people were holding a great market. From this place a road led across the meadow-land to L'Isle, six miles distant.
It was a little late to return to Bompart, and anyway, my father could not with politeness leave his hosts the moment the meal was over. He decided then to spend the night at Cavaillon, and the rest of the evening was passed in rather noisy talk. Eventually, one by one, the guests went home and we were left alone.
He handed Cavaillon the note he had written some hours before at Prosper's house. "Here, send him this, and then return at once to your desk; you might be missed. It was very imprudent in you to come out without your hat." Cavaillon ran off as quickly as he had come. Prosper was stupefied. "What!" he exclaimed. "You know Cavaillon?"
Fanferlot paid no attention to this denial, but continued in his gentlest tone: "And I am sure you will be kind enough to give it to me; believe me, nothing but the most absolute necessity " "Never!" exclaimed Cavaillon; and, believing the moment favorable, he suddenly attempted to jerk his arm from under Fanferlot's, and escape.
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