CHAPTER XIII.
MISCHIEF.
While these people were repairing the fatigues of their journey, a dooropened very softly at the end of the room. But Schwann heard it. Thisdoor had access to the stairs which led to the upper floor. He instantlyhastened toward the person, who stood half concealed.
This man was about forty, small, and wearing a brown cloth coat, braidedand trimmed with Astrachan. His vest was blue, as was a neckerchief. Hewore straps and spurs--a costume, in fact, in the last mode of 1825--andyet, no human being looked less like a dandy. His feet were huge, hishands ugly and bony. His face expressed timidity and hypocrisy. He tookoff his hat as Schwann approached. The stranger's eyes were half closed,as if the light from the long windows pained them--in reality, he wasexamining each face at the table.
"You want breakfast, sir, I presume?" asked the innkeeper.
"Yes," said the other, "yes, yes," but he did not seem to haveunderstood the question, although he took a seat at one of the tables.
"Give me some brandy!" he said. "I am expecting some one, and when hecomes you will serve our breakfast up-stairs."
"Very good, sir!" And Schwann walked away. "He is the intendant of somegreat lord, I fancy," he said to himself.
Again the door opened, and two more customers appeared. One looked likea horse jockey, the other, though in citizen's dress, was without doubtan old soldier. His heavy gray moustache imparted a certain harshness tohis expression, though his eyes were frank and honest.
"Where shall I serve your breakfast, gentlemen?" asked the innkeeper.
There was a little hesitation. The last arrivals noticed the man in thebrown braided coat, and did not seem to like his appearance. It wasplain that some mysterious tie existed among these travelers, however,for Iron Jaws, hearing the voices of the new-comers, looked up andexchanged a rapid glance with them.
"We will eat there," said one of the two men, pointing to a table atsome distance from the man in brown, who smiled slightly as he saw thegesture. He himself had been in the meantime supplied with a decanter ofbrandy, and now took some newspapers from his pocket, one of which hebegan to read, holding it in such a way that he was concealed from theobservation of every one in the room.
When Schwann brought in a delicious-looking omelette, the horse jockeysaid, in a loud voice:
"Is Remisemont far from here?"
"Remisemont! Ah! gentlemen, it is plain that you do not belong in theseparts. It is not more than two leagues away."
"Then we can easily get there this afternoon?"
Schwann saw that he had made a blunder, and endeavored to retrieve it.
"We had better call it three leagues, and the road is a bad one, and youhave to ford the river. There has been a great deal of rain, and two menwere drowned there last year; and, by the way, they looked much likeyou."
"Many thanks!" And the old soldier laughed.
"They didn't know the road, you see----"
"But you can furnish us with a guide?"
"Yes, but not to-day."
"And why not?"
"Because I am alone in the house."
The mountebanks had by this time finished their meal. Gudel came towardthe two men.
"If these gentlemen desire it," he said, politely, "I will take them onearly to-morrow morning in my wagon."
"That is an excellent idea!" cried the innkeeper. "With Iron Jaws thereis no danger."
The strange costume worn by Gudel, and the equally strange name by whichSchwann called him, did not seem to amaze the two strangers. Theyconsulted each other with a look, and then courteously accepted theoffer.
"I give a little representation here to-night," Gudel continued, "andstart at an early hour for Remisemont."
Nothing could have been more natural than this scene, nor that Gudelshould have accepted the brandy and water offered him, and it would havebeen a very distrustful nature that would have suspected any secretunderstanding between Gudel and the two men with whom he was nowdrinking. Nevertheless, the man behind the newspaper, who had not lost aword of this dialogue, smiled until he showed every tooth in his head.
The giantess and Robeccal left the room together. After a few wordstogether, Robeccal returned, and asked Gudel if he wanted him again, andwhen his employer said no, that he was at liberty, he once more left theroom. The man behind the newspaper did the same, and the two met in thepassage.
"One word, if you please," said the man in the brown coat. "Answer mefrankly, and you shall have twenty francs. Who is Iron Jaws?"
"A mountebank."
"He has another name?"
"Yes--Gudel."
"Do you know the two men with whom he is talking?"
"No."
"You hate him?"
"What is that to you?"
"A good deal, and to you, too, if you wish him any harm. You are amember of his troupe?"
"Not for long, you had better believe!"
"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 opportunityto 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 menhad not looked at each other. The stranger lounged away, indifferent toall appearance, and Robeccal picked up the gold and disappeared in adifferent direction.
Meanwhile, Gudel was talking in a low voice to his apparently newacquaintances. Schwann had returned to his saucepans.
"Well?" said the soldier, leaning over his glass as if to smell thewine.
"All goes well," answered Gudel. "The grain was well sown--the harvestwaits."
"We will talk elsewhere. Did you notice that fellow who sat reading overthere 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 youquietly?"
"To-night, after the representation, in my room or yours."
"In yours, then. We will wait until the house is quiet. Leave your dooropen. 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 Remisemontto-morrow."
Gudel nodded, then called Fanfar.
"To work, my lad," he cried. "We must stir up these excellent people inthis village. Schwann, where is my permit from the mayor?"
Schwann hurried in wiping his hands, and from under a pile of plates hedrew out a paper.
"Fanfar, sign it for me, your hand is better than mine, for the truth isI never learned to write. And now this is done, we must go forth andwarn the people of the great pleasure in store for them."
The Son of Monte-Cristo Page 15