THIN PARTITIONS.
Gudel had been carried to his room, the innkeeper moaning over and over
again, "How could this have happened?"
La Roulante established herself by the sick bed. She was livid with
fear. The attempt had been a failure, and Bobichel had guessed it!
The persistent questions of Schwann made her very uneasy. Caillette said
the same thing. She hardly knew what had happened; she only knew that
her father had been injured.
Bobichel came in.
"The chain has been examined," he said, looking in La Roulante's face.
"What of that!" she cried. "Why do you meddle in what does not concern
you? Do you mean to say that any one meddled with the chain?"
"That is precisely what I mean!" answered Bobichel, forgetting all
caution.
La Roulante rushed at him. Caillette threw herself between them, and
Schwann dragged her back.
La Roulante caught Caillette by the arm and swung her off, then the girl
picked herself up and ran to Gudel's bed. "Help! father!" she cried,
"help!"
The girl's voice seemed to produce a magical effect. He half rose in his
bed, and looked about.
Every one was amazed and delighted.
"I knew he would get well!" cried Schwann, as he rushed to Gudel, and
took his hands.
Bobichel immediately poured out some brandy and gave it to Gudel, whose
eyes almost at once regained a natural appearance. He saw Caillette
first, and kissed her tenderly.
"Where is Fanfar?" he said. "Was he hurt?"
"He has gone to Vagney for a doctor for you, dear father."
Iron Jaws laughed aloud.
"I want none of your poisoners here, let me tell you." He caught sight
of Bobichel, as he spoke. The clown was crying like a baby. "What is the
matter with you, Bob?" he asked.
"Nothing, master, nothing at all; I am so happy."
"You have been fighting, sir?" said Gudel.
La Roulante bustled forward.
"No, he was impertinent to me," she said, "and I gave him such a shaking
as he deserved, that was all. But have not you a word for your wife?"
Gudel turned his head away. Bobichel took advantage of this movement to
shake his fist in the face of the giantess.
"Now let me see if I can stand," said Gudel. "One! two! three!"
He was on his feet.
"I must look at that chain," he said, "when Fanfar comes. And where is
he? It seems to me that he is gone a long time."
"He will be here soon," answered the innkeeper, "unless the inundation
has increased."
"Is he on foot?" asked Gudel.
"No, the lady lent him her horse," said Bobichel, but he stopped short
when he saw Caillette turn pale.
Gudel could not see his daughter.
"The young lady is kind-hearted, in spite of all her affectations," he
said. "And now, good people, I must ask you to leave me. While I am
waiting for Fanfar, I must see these men that I am to take to-morrow to
Remisemont."
"You do not really mean to go to-morrow?"
"I can't say yet. Caillette, my dear, you must go to bed and get some
rest at once."
Gudel was not in the least hurt; he had received a great shock, that was
all.
When La Roulante left the room, she was met at the door by Robeccal.
"You see," he said, in a fierce whisper, "that if I had done as I
wished, and used a knife, the whole thing would have been settled by
this time."
The two accomplices stood talking in the large room which the men of the
company shared.
"Who the devil could have supposed," the one said to the other, "that
Fanfar would have been able to save Gudel. Such a tremendous weight!"
While they were talking, Robeccal and La Roulante heard heavy steps on
the stairs, and then a knock at Gudel's door.
Robeccal started. He suddenly remembered the brief colloquy which he had
had with the unknown--who was in fact, Cyprien. Might it not be if he
did what this man desired that in it he would also find his revenge?
"If you hate Gudel," this man had said, "I will give you an opportunity
of paying off old scores."
Robeccal opened the door and looked out.
Yes, these were the men. Turning to the giantess,
"Listen!" he said, "it is by no means certain that all is lost."
"I don't understand."
"No, but tell me quick. Does he seem to have any secrets?"
"He is always reading the newspapers. He goes himself for his letters
always, and brings back a quantity."
"Have you never read any of them?"
"I can't read."
"Wait a little. I think we have him now."
The two persons whom we saw in the dining-room now stood at the foot of
Gudel's bed.
"You have had a narrow escape," said one.
"Yes, thanks to Fanfar. His brains, his arms and his muscles saved me."
"It was of him that we came to speak," replied the man who was dressed
like a horse jockey.
"If it is time to act," said Gudel, "you may rely on him."
"Are you sure? We do not doubt you nor him, but for such work as
ours--of which the aim is to return to France that liberty which has
been stifled by the iron hand of Bonaparte and by the Bourbons--we need
men who are ready to sacrifice their lives--to walk straight on, even if
the scaffold stands at the termination of their road. Is Fanfar such a
man?"
"I am not much of a speaker," answered Gudel. "My father was a soldier
of the Republic. I myself was condemned to death in 1815. My father gave
his life for France, and I lived through accident. It was about that
time that little Fanfar fell into my hands, and I have always taught him
to feel the greatest respect for the Revolution. You know, too, that his
father was murdered by the allies, his mother was burned by the
Cossacks, and his sister, poor little soul, died of starvation. Do you
wonder that Fanfar hates the Bourbons? And you ask if you may trust
him!"
There was a brief silence, and then the man who looked like an old
soldier spoke.
"Gudel," he said, "we believe you. For ten years, over and over again,
you have proved to us your devotion and your honesty."
Iron Jaws blushed with pleasure.
"Fanfar will be here presently. You will find him ready to do your
bidding, and to risk his life in the performance of his duty."
"You know the situation," resumed one of the men; "our enemies are
already quarreling among themselves, our friends are redoubling their
efforts. General Foy has stigmatized the purchasers of votes and
rendered their names infamous. Roger Collard has distinctly asked a
terrible question--'where will you be in seven years?' The excitement
is general, and we must send a man of activity to Paris--a man who is
young and active, who is willing to make any sacrifice. Can Fanfar be
this man?"
Gudel contented himself with a simple affirmative.
"Then," said the old soldier, drawing out a pocketbook, "here are papers
so important that were they to fall into the hands of our adversaries,
our heads would be in danger and our plans ruined. These papers Fanfar
must carry to Paris; he will give them to the committee, who in their
turn will give him orders, which he is to execute without hesitation or
curiosity. Can you answer for Fanfar?"
"Upon my honor, I can."
The two men continued to talk in a low voice with Gudel, and then they
went out. Absorbed in thought, they did not notice a man who started
back when they appeared. Robeccal had heard every syllable.
Cyprien now arrived at the inn. White, trembling and breathless, he
could scarcely reply to the questions addressed to him. He believed the
Marquis to be dead, and was finally able to tell his story.
Schwann began to be very anxious. Where was Fanfar? Suddenly a horse was
heard coming at full speed. Schwann and Caillette rushed to the door.
They uttered a simultaneous cry of surprise. It was the Marquis.
"And Fanfar? Where is he?"
"He is coming. But I have not a moment to lose. Take me to Gudel's
chamber."
The tone was too peremptory for Schwann to hesitate; being reassured,
too, in regard to Fanfar, he was ready to obey without stopping to ask
the meaning of this extreme haste. Cyprien started forward, but the
Marquis gave him a look that commanded silence, and as he passed, said
in a low voice:
"Patience!"
The door closed. Then Cyprien felt a hand on his shoulder and recognized
the man whose assistance he had endeavored to buy.
"Come out with me," said this man.
"You have learned something?"
"Come out with me, I tell you. Do you think I am fool enough to talk
under these walls?"
As they stepped out on the square they saw Fanfar, but Fanfar did not
notice these two shadows. He entered the inn and Caillette threw herself
into his arms, sobbing with joy.
"I am glad to see you," muttered Schwann, half ashamed of his own
emotion.
In the silence that followed, the voice of La Roulante was heard singing
while drowning her sorrows in a bottle of brandy.