The ex-cook appeared before Tantaine in all his appalling vulgarity as the latter
descended the stairs. The proprietor of the musical academy was a stout, red-
faced man, with an insolent mouth and a cynical eye. He was gorgeously
dressed, and wore a profusion of jewelry. He was much startled at seeing
Tantaine, whom he knew to be the redoubtable Mascarin's right-hand man. "A
thousand thunders!" muttered he. "If these people have sent him here for me, I
must take care what I am about," and with a friendly smile he extended his hand
to Tantaine.
"Glad to see you," said he. "Now, what can I do for you, for I hope you have
come to ask me to do something?"
"The veriest trifle," returned Tantaine.
"I am sorry that it is not something of importance, for I have the greatest respect
for M. Mascarin."
This conversation had taken place in the window, and was interrupted every
moment by the shouts and laughter of the children; but beneath these sounds of
merriment came an occasional bitter wail of lamentation.
"What is that?" inquired Perpignan, in a voice of thunder. "Who presumes to be
unhappy in this establishment?"
"It is two of the lads that I have put on half rations," returned Poluche. "I'll make
them learn somehow or----"
A dark frown on the master's face arrested his further speech. "What do I hear?"
roared Perpignan. "Do you dare, under my roof, to deprive those poor children of
an ounce of food? It is scandalous, I may say, infamous on your part, M.
Poluche."
"But, sir," faltered the professor, "have you not told me hundreds of times--"
"That you were an idiot, and would never be anything better. Go and tell Mother
Butor to give these poor children their dinner."
Repressing further manifestations of rage, Perpignan took Tantaine by the arm
and led him into a little side-room, which he dignified by the name of his office.
There was nothing in it but three chairs, a common deal table, and a few shelves
containing ledgers. "You have come on business, I presume," remarked
Perpignan.
Tantaine nodded, and the two men seated themselves at the table, gazing keenly
into each other's eyes, as though to read the thoughts that moved in the busy
brain.
"How did you find out my little establishment down here?" asked Perpignan.
"By a mere chance," remarked Tantaine carelessly. "I go about a good deal, and
hear many things. For instance, you have taken every precaution here, and
though you are really the proprietor, yet the husband of your cook and
housekeeper, Butor, is supposed to be the owner of the house--at least it stands
in his name. Now, if anything untoward happened, you would vanish, and only
Butor would remain a prey for the police."
