"Neither do I," said Quennebert. "but I believe I have heard the name of
a surgeon who lives close by, in the rue Hauteville."

"I also know of one," interposed de Jars, "a very skilful man."

"You may command me."

"Gladly, monsieur; for he lives some distance from here."

"I am at your service."

De Jars and Jeannin raised the chevalier's shoulders, and the stranger
supported his legs, and carrying their burden in this order, they set
off.

They walked slowly, looking about them carefully, a precaution rendered
necessary by the fact that the moon now rode in a cloudless sky. They
glided over the Pont Saint-Michel between the houses that lined both
sides, and, turning to the right, entered one of the narrow streets of
the Cite, and after many turnings, during which they met no one, they
stopped at the door of a house situated behind the Hotel-de-Ville.

"Many thanks, monsieur," said de Jars,--"many thanks; we need no further
help."

As the commander spoke, Maitre Quennebert let the feet of the chevalier
fall abruptly on the pavement, while de Jars and the treasurer still
supported his body, and, stepping back two paces, he drew his pistols
from his belt, and placing a finger on each trigger, said--