The Son of Monte-Cristo The Son Of Monte Cristo Part 16

"Long enough to earn a few louis?"

"What do you want done?"

"I will tell you. If you hate this Gudel I will give you an opportunity to pay off your score, and I will pay you at the same time."

"That is nonsense!"

"All right. I am in no hurry. I can wait an hour or two."

The man took a louis from his pocket and dropped it on the ground.

Robeccal put his foot upon it. During this brief colloquy the two men had not looked at each other. The stranger lounged away, indifferent to all appearance, and Robeccal picked up the gold and disappeared in a different direction.

Meanwhile, Gudel was talking in a low voice to his apparently new acquaintances. Schwann had returned to his saucepans.

"Well?" said the soldier, leaning over his gla.s.s as if to smell the wine.

"All goes well," answered Gudel. "The grain was well sown--the harvest waits."

"We will talk elsewhere. Did you notice that fellow who sat reading over there in the corner?"

"Yes--a bad face. A lacquey, I think."

"A lacquey or a spy. Look out for him! Now, when and where can I see you quietly?"

"To-night, after the representation, in my room or yours."

"In yours, then. We will wait until the house is quiet. Leave your door open. And now, be careful that no one suspects our presence here!"

"What! not even Fanfar? You need not distrust him. He is good, brave, and devoted to you."

"We will talk of that later on." In a louder voice he said: "Then, comrade, we will accept your offer, and go with you to Remisemont to-morrow."

Gudel nodded, then called Fanfar.

"To work, my lad," he cried. "We must stir up these excellent people in this village. Schwann, where is my permit from the mayor?"

Schwann hurried in wiping his hands, and from under a pile of plates he drew out a paper.

"Fanfar, sign it for me, your hand is better than mine, for the truth is I never learned to write. And now this is done, we must go forth and warn the people of the great pleasure in store for them."

CHAPTER XIV.

TWO PLACES, S. V. P.

In five minutes all the population of Saint Ame was on the Square, for in these Lorraine villages amus.e.m.e.nts are rare. They were watching the erection of an enormous shed covered with canvas and strange pictures.

An enormous handbill with letters that could be read a hundred feet off, bore most astonishing inscriptions. At the top was Iron Jaws, who held enormous weights with his teeth. The Giantess, who ate raw pigeons, or any other fowl that was most convenient. The wonderful Almanzor (that was Robeccal,) a descendant of the Moors of Spain, crushed gla.s.s with his teeth and swallowed swords. Then there was Caillette, the rope-dancer, who charmed the world with her voice, as well as with her aerial lightness. And lastly, in letters of the same length as those which Gudel used for himself, came Fanfar's name.

"FANFAR! FANFAR! FANFAR!

"STRENGTH, SKILL, DEXTERITY.

"He knows everything. He can do everything!"

And finally, there was a representation of a human pyramid, at the top of which was Caillette, all smiles, and a flower in her hand.

The good peasants were naturally delighted with all this.

Iron Jaws, with his hands in his pockets, was marching up and down, giving his orders like a general at the head of an army. Suddenly he called,

"Bobichel!"

Between two pictures, one of which was a lion devouring a crocodile, appeared the clown's head, grinning from ear to ear. He was so utterly grotesque that the crowd shrieked with laughter.

Bobichel's name did not appear on the handbill. It had been omitted to leave more room for that of his friend Fanfar, and Gudel had called him to introduce him, so to speak, to the crowd.

Fanfar and Caillette were alone. He was trying the ropes of the trapeze, while she was giving some finishing touches to the interior decoration.

Suddenly, she stopped and looked up at Fanfar, who was swinging from a wooden bar. An artist would have been struck with the beauty of his figure.

Caillette watched him breathlessly as he went through his exercises, and as he dropped at last on the floor, so lightly that his feet scarcely left their imprint, she threw both arms around his neck.

"How bad you are!" she cried, "you frighten me half out of my wits."

"Frighten you, child! Are you not yet accustomed to my exercises, little sister?"

Caillette colored, and half turned away.

"Why do you call me little sister?" she said.

Fanfar dropped her hands, which he had taken from his neck. A cloud pa.s.sed swiftly over his brow.

"Because we have been brought up together," he answered, slowly. "You were not more than six years old when your father took me into his service. But does it vex you for me to call you sister?"

"No, it does not vex me, but I would rather you did not."

Fanfar understood her, and was disturbed. He had long since seen in the girl a growing pa.s.sion for himself. Her innocence and purity were exquisite, but at the same time she loved Fanfar. He did not love her.

He would have given his life for her, but he did not wish to spend it with her, and at the thought of Caillette as his wife he drew back. He now disengaged himself gently from her clinging arms.

"To work!" he said, "it is growing late."

Caillette took up her needle, as the door opened to admit Gudel. He was not alone, two ladies of aristocratic bearing were with him.

"But, my dear Irene, this is a strange caprice," said the elder of the two. "What will the Countess say?"

"My dear Madame Ursula, it would oblige me if you would cease your moans, that is, unless you should prefer to return to the chateau alone!"