Sans-Cravate took his companion's arm. It was evident that he was doing his utmost to overcome his chagrin and to appear hilarious. Jean Ficelle, who believed himself to be an excellent singer, had already begun the song with which he proposed to entertain his friend, when, as they turned out of Rue Barbette into Vieille Rue du Temple, a young man, who wore a round hat, and whose dress, while not fashionable, was that of a respectable bourgeois, walked rapidly by them. He seemed much preoccupied, and did not notice the two messengers. But they looked at him and recognized him, and Jean Ficelle triumphantly exclaimed: "Well! what did I tell you? Was I mistaken? You've seen him yourself. That was Paul, dressed like a swell." "Yes, it was him, that's sure! I can't get over it!" "And do you see how proud he is when he's dressed up like that? he passed close to us, and pretended not to know us. What does it all mean? is that a messenger's dress? Anyone would swear he was a drummer. You see yourself that there's something crooked, some mystery." Sans-Cravate was not listening, for he had run after Paul; although the younger man walked very rapidly, Sans-Cravate soon overtook and passed him; then, planting himself in front of him, he barred his passage, saying in a bantering tone which ill concealed his anger: "Where are you going so fast? _Bigre!_ seems to me, you're dressed mighty fine for a messenger who stands on the street corner to do errands." Paul was thunderstruck when he recognized Sans-Cravate; but he strove to overcome his annoyance, and replied: "I am not doing errands to-day, and when a man isn't working he is free to dress as he pleases." "That may be! but, still, nobody ever meets us in such a rig, not even on Sunday." "No," said Jean Ficelle, who had overtaken his two confrères, and joined in the conversation with a bantering leer; "no! we ain't so stylish as that! Gad! what a swell! Paul must have some other trade that pays better than ours, to wear such togs! And think how stingy he is with us, never willing to treat his friends to a glass!" "I do what I choose! I am not accountable to anyone for my actions," retorted Paul, with an angry glance at Jean Ficelle; "I don't play the spy on other people, and I care mighty little what is thought of me by people who had better learn to behave themselves, first of all!" With that, Paul hurried away, while the two messengers looked at each other with a disappointed expression. "What an insolent brat he is, the little foundling!" cried Jean Ficelle; "don't that deserve a hiding--when a puppy without any father or mother puts on airs like that? He insulted you again." "Me?" said Sans-Cravate, in surprise; "how did he insult me, I'd like to know?" "Didn't you hear what he said: 'There are people who had better learn how to behave themselves before they spy on other people?'--He looked at you when he said that." "I thought you was the one he was looking at."