"
"You have not got my signature, I tell you," cried the Commissary.
"Show me my signature! Where is my signature?"
That was just the question; where was his signature? Leon
recognised that he was in a hole; but his spirit rose with the
occasion, and he blustered nobly, tossing back his curls. The
Commissary played up to him in the character of tyrant; and as the
one leaned farther forward, the other leaned farther back - majesty
confronting fury. The audience had transferred their attention to
this new performance, and listened with that silent gravity common
to all Frenchmen in the neighbourhood of the Police. Elvira had
sat down, she was used to these distractions, and it was rather
melancholy than fear that now oppressed her.
"Another word," cried the Commissary, "and I arrest you."
"Arrest me?" shouted Leon. "I defy you!"
"I am the Commissary of Police,' said the official.
Leon commanded his feelings, and replied, with great delicacy of
innuendo -
"So it would appear."
The point was too refined for Castel-le-Gachis; it did not raise a
smile; and as for the Commissary, he simply bade the singer follow
him to his office, and directed his proud footsteps towards the
door. There was nothing for it but to obey. Leon did so with a
proper pantomime of indifference, but it was a leek to eat, and
there was no denying it.
The Maire had slipped out and was already waiting at the
Commissary's door.
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