"How do I know, Gildas! Only madam and monsieur ever go in there; never their children." "And nothing of all that seems to you at all surprising, Jeanike!" "No, because I have become accustomed to it. You will presently feel about it as I do." The girl stopped short, and after casting a furtive look in the direction of the street, she said to her companion: "Did you see that?" "What?" "The dragoon." "A dragoon, Jeanike!" "Yes; and I beg you go out and see if he is coming back--towards the shop. I shall tell you more about it later. Go, quick! quick!" "The dragoon has not come back," answered the lad, naïvely. "But what can you have in common with the dragoon, Jeanike?" "Nothing at all, thank God; but they have their barracks near by." "A bad neighborhood for young girls, close to these men with helmets and sabers," remarked Gildas sententiously. "A bad neighborhood. That reminds me of the song, The Demand: "In my dove-cote a little dove Once had I, When low the sparrow hawk swooped down Upon her like a gust of wind; He frightened my wee dove away And now none Knows what has become of her.[4] "Do you understand, Jeanike? The doves are young girls; the sparrow-hawk--" "Is the dragoon. You are speaking more wisely than you know, Gildas." "What, Jeanike! Can you have realized that the neighborhood of sparrow-hawks--that is, dragoons--is unwholesome for you?" "I was not thinking of myself." "Of whom, then?" "Tush, Gildas! You are a loyal fellow. I must ask your advice. This is what has happened: Four days ago, mademoiselle, who usually stays in the rear of the shop, was at the desk in the absence of madam. I happened to look out on the street, when I saw a military man stop before our windows." "A dragoon? A sparrow-hawk of a dragoon? Was it, Jeanike?" "Yes; but he was not a soldier; he wore large gold epaulettes, and a cockade on his hat. He must have been at least a colonel. He stopped before the shop, and looked in." The conversation of the two Breton country folks was interrupted by the brusque entrance of a man of about forty years, clad in a cutaway coat and trousers of black velvet, the usual railway employees' garb. His energetic face was partially covered with a thick brown beard. He seemed uneasy, and stepped into the shop precipitately, saying to Jeanike: "Where is your master, my child? I must see him immediately. Pray, go and tell him that Dupont wants him. Remember my name well--Dupont." "Monsieur Lebrenn went out this morning at daybreak, monsieur," answered Jeanike. "He has not yet come back." "A thousand devils! Can he have gone there?" the new arrival muttered to himself. He was about to leave the shop as precipitately as he had stepped in when a new thought struck him, and turning back to Jeanike he said: "My child, tell Monsieur Lebrenn, the moment he comes back, that Dupont has arrived." "Yes, monsieur."