"I should think you did--a very famous trial!" said Adolphe. "And at your trial you declared that you did not know how to write. You signed all your depositions with a cross, and you never wrote a line to a single soul." "Because one never should put anything in writing," said Theophrastus firmly. "I was doubtless afraid to compromise myself. None the less the document exists." "That's true. But let us go back to your eleventh year. One day you went with some of your school-fellows to Saint-Laurent fair--" "Look here, Adolphe: couldn't you put it differently? You keep saying, '_You_ went with your school-fellows to Saint-Laurent fair' ... '_You_ were born in 1693' ... 'You were a school-fellow of Voltaire.' After all, though I admit I was _Car_--" he stopped short--"the _Child_, I am also Theophrastus Longuet; and I can assure you that Theophrastus Longuet is not at all flattered at having been _Car_--the _Child_. Give everyone his due. I should be much obliged if you'd put it that 'The _Child_ went with his school-fellows.'" "Certainly--certainly. At Saint-Laurent fair little Cartouche--" "The _Child_!" "But you weren't yet called the _Child_--you weren't called the _Child_ till you were a man--" "Well, say, 'Little Louis-Dominique.'" "Louis-Dominique fell among a troop of gipsies--" "That shows you that parents ought never to let their children go to fairs alone," said Theophrastus solemnly. "The gipsies carried him off; they stole him--" "Poor little Louis-Dominique: he deserves our pity," said Theophrastus in a tone of warm compassion. "Do they express pity for him in the books?" "They say that he made no difficulties about being stolen." "And what do they know about it!" cried Theophrastus indignantly. "Well, the gipsies taught him cudgel-play, fencing, pistol-shooting, the art of springing from roof to roof, juggling, tumbling--" "All very useful things," said Theophrastus in a tone of approval. "They taught him to empty the pockets of tradesmen and gentlemen without their perceiving it. Oh, he was a nice boy! No one could touch him at collaring handkerchiefs, snuff-boxes, watches, sword-knots--" "That was not at all nice!" cried Theophrastus in scandalised tones. "Oh! If that were all!" said Adolphe gloomily. "The troop of gipsies was at Rouen, when Louis-Dominique fell ill." "Poor little boy! He was never meant for such a life," cried Theophrastus compassionately. "He was sent to the Rouen hospital; and there a brother of his father found him. He recognised him, embraced him with tears of joy, and swore to restore him to his parents." "A fine fellow that uncle! Louis-Dominique was saved!" cried Theophrastus joyfully. M. Lecamus lost patience, turned sharply on Theophrastus and begged him to cease his continual interruptions, declaring that it would take him a good ten years to tell the story of Cartouche, if he could not bring himself to listen without these comments.