"Stuff!" the stranger answered, as he tossed off the contents of his glass, and shrugged his shoulders, "Are we coming back to the old story of just now? I thought that settled long ago."
"Alas! I would it were so for everybody as it is for me."
"What do you mean?"
"Pray do not get into a passion, sir," the landlord continued timidly; "I have not the slightest intention of insulting you."
"In that case explain yourself in the Fiend's name, my master, and come frankly to the point; I do not understand what others beside yourself have to do in the matter."
"That is just the difficulty," said Master Pivois, scratching his head.
"Speak, zounds! I am not an ogre; what is it that causes you such anxiety?"
The landlord saw that he must out with it, and fear giving him courage, he bravely made up his mind.
"Monseigneur," he said, honestly, "believe me that I am too much the man of the world to venture to act with rudeness to a gentleman of your importance "
"Enough of that," the stranger interrupted, with a smile.
"But " the host continued.
"Ah! There is a but."
"Alas! Monseigneur, there always is one, and today a bigger one than ever."
"Hang it all, you terrify me, master," the stranger remarked, with a laugh; "tell me quickly, I beg of you, what this terrible but is."
"Alas! Monseigneur, it is this: my entire hostelry was engaged a week ago by a party of gentlemen; I expect them to arrive in an hour half an hour, perhaps, and "
"And?" the stranger asked, in an enquiring tone, which caused the host to shudder.
"Well, Monseigneur," he resumed in a choking voice, "these gentlemen insist on having the hostelry to themselves, and made me swear not to receive any other traveller but themselves, and paid me to that effect."
"Very good," said the stranger, with an air of indifference.
"What do you say; very good? Monseigneur," Master Pivois exclaimed.
"Hang it! What else would you have me say? You have strictly fulfilled your engagement, and no one has the right to reproach you."
"How so, sir?"
"Unless you have someone concealed here," the stranger answered, imperturbably, "which, I confess, would not be at all honourable on your part."
"I have nobody."
"Well, then?"
"But you, monseigneur?" he hazarded timidly.
"Oh, I," the stranger replied laughingly, "that is another affair; let us make a distinction, if you please, master; you did not receive me, far from it; I pressed my company on you, as I think you will allow."
"It is only too true."
"Do you regret it?"
"Far from it, monseigneur," he exclaimed eagerly, for he was not at all desirous of re-arousing the slumbering wrath of the irascible stranger; "I am only stating a fact."
"Very good, I see with pleasure, Master Pivois, that you are a very serious man; you are stating a fact, you say?"
"Alas! yes," the luckless host sighed.
"Very good; now follow my reasoning closely."
"I am doing so."
"When these gentlemen arrive, which according to your statement, will be soon, you will only have one thing to do."
"What is it, monseigneur?"
"Tell them exactly what has passed between us. If I am not greatly mistaken this honest explanation will satisfy them; if it be otherwise "
"Well, if it be so, what am I to do, sir?"
"Refer them to me, Master Pivois, and I will undertake in my turn to convince them; gentlemen of good birth perfectly understand each other."
"Still, monseigneur "
"Not a word more on this subject, I must request; but stay," he added, and listened, "I believe your company are arriving."
And he carelessly threw himself back in his chair.
Outside, the trampling of horses on the hardened snow could be distinctly heard, and then several blows were dealt on the door.
"It is they," the host muttered.
"A further reason not to keep them waiting; go and open the door, master, for it is very cold outside."
The landlord hesitated for a moment and then left the room without replying.
The stranger carefully folded himself in his mantle, pulled the brim of his beaver over his eyes, and awaited the entrance of the newcomers, while affecting an air of indifference.
The waiting-men, who had sought shelter in the most remote corner of the room, were trembling in the prevision of a disturbance.
CHAPTER II
A FAMILY SCENE
In the meanwhile the new arrivals were making a great noise in the road, and seemed to be growing impatient at the delay in letting them into the hostelry.
Master Pivois at length decided to open to them, though he was suffering from a secret apprehension as to the consequences which the presence of a stranger in the house might have for him.
As soon as a stable-lad had by his orders, drawn back the bolts, and opened the carriage-gates, several horsemen entered the yard, accompanied by a coach drawn by four horses.
By the light of the lanthorn held by his lad the landlord perceived that the travellers were seven in number; three masters, three servants, and the coachman on the box. All were wrapped up in thick cloaks, and armed to the teeth.
So soon as the coach had entered the yard, the horsemen dismounted; one of them, who appeared to exercise a certain authority over his companions, walked up to the landlord, while the others brought the coach up to the main entrance of the house, and closed the gates.
"Well, master," said the traveller to whom we allude, with a very marked foreign accent, although he expressed himself very purely in French; "have my orders been punctually executed?"
At this question, which was very embarrassing to him, Master Pivois scratched his head, and then replied like the cunning peasant he was
"As far as possibly, yes, my lord."
"What do you mean, scoundrel?" the traveller resumed roughly; "Your instructions were precise enough."
"Yes, my lord," the landlord said humbly; "and I will even add that I was liberally paid beforehand."
"In that case, what have you to say?"
"That I have done the best I could," Master Pivois replied in growing confusion.
"Ah! I suppose you mean that you have someone in the house?"
"Alas! yes, my lord," the landlord answered, hanging his head.
The traveller stamped his foot passionately.
"S'blood!" he exclaimed; then, at once resuming an apparent calmness, he continued, "Who are the persons?"
"There is only one."
"Ah!" said the traveller, with satisfaction, "If there be only one, nothing is more easy than to dislodge him."
"I fear not," the landlord ventured timidly, "for this traveller, who is a stranger to me, I swear, looks to me like a rude gentleman, and not at all inclined to surrender his place."
"Well, well, I will take it on myself," the traveller remarked carelessly, "where is he?"
"There, in the kitchen, my lord, warming himself at the fire."
"That will do; is the room ready?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Rejoin those gentlemen, and show them the way yourself; none of your people must know what takes place here."
The landlord, delighted at having got off so cheaply, bowed respectfully, and hastily retired in the direction of the garden; as for the traveller, after exchanging a few whispered words with a footman, who remained with him, he pulled his hat over his eyes, opened the door, and boldly entered the kitchen.
It was deserted: the stranger had disappeared.
The traveller looked anxiously around him; the waiting men, probably in obedience to orders previously received from their master, had withdrawn to their attics.
After a few seconds' hesitation, the traveller returned to the garden.
After a few seconds' hesitation, the traveller returned to the garden.
"Well," the landlord asked, "have you seen him, my lord?"
"No," he replied, "but it is of no consequence; not a word about him to the persons who accompany me; he has doubtless left, but if that be not the case, be careful that he does not approach the apartments you have reserved for us."
"Hum," the landlord muttered to himself, "all this is not clear;" and he withdrew very pensively.
Truth to tell, the worthy man was frightened. His new customers had unpleasant faces, and a rough manner, which reassured him but slightly; and then again he fancied he had seen alarming shadows gliding about among the trees in his garden, a fact which he had carefully avoided verifying, but which heightened his secret apprehensions.
Dame Tiphaine, torch in hand, was waiting at the house door, in readiness to light the travellers, and conduct them to their apartments. When the coach had been turned and stopped, one of the travellers went up to it, opened the door, and assisted a lady in getting out.
This lady, who was magnificently dressed, appeared to be suffering, and she walked with difficulty. Still, in spite of her weakness, she declined the arm of one of the travellers offered her in support, and approached Dame Tiphaine, who, compassionate like all women, hastened to offer her the service she seemed to request of her, and helped her to ascend the rather steep staircase that led to the dais room.
The travellers left the driver and a lackey to guard the coach, which remained horsed, and silently followed the sick lady.
The dais room, the finest in the inn, was spacious and furnished with a certain amount of luxury; a large fire crackled on the hearth, and several candles, placed on the furniture, diffused a rather bright light.
A door half hidden by tapestry communicated with a bedroom, that had a door opening on the passage, for the convenience of the attendants.
When the lady had entered the room, she sank into a chair, and thanked the landlady with a bow.
The latter discreetly withdrew, astonished and almost terrified by the gloomy faces which surrounded her.
"Holy Virgin!" she said to Master Pivois, whom she found walking in great anxiety along the passage, "What's going to happen here? These men frighten me; that poor lady is all of a tremble, and the little I saw of her face behind her mask, is as white as a sheet."
"Alas!" Master Pivois said with a sigh, "I am as frightened as you, my dear, but we can do nothing; they are too great people for us friends of his Eminence. They would crush us without pity; we have only one thing to do, and that is to retire to our room, as we received orders to do, and to keep quiet till our services are required; the house is theirs, at this moment they are the masters."
The landlord and his wife went into their room, and not satisfied with double locking their door, barricaded it with everything that came to hand.
As Master Pivois had said to his wife, the travellers were certainly masters of the inn, or at least believed themselves so.
The stranger, while feigning the deepest indifference, had watched the landlord's every movement: as soon as the latter left the kitchen to open the door for the newcomers, he rose, threw a purse of gold to the scullions, while putting his finger on his lips to recommend silence to them, and carefully wrapping himself in his mantle, left the kitchen.
The scullions, with the intelligence characteristic of the class, comprehended that this action of the stranger concealed some plans in the execution of which it was to their interest not to interfere; they divided the money so generously given them, and remembering the orders they had received from their master, they hastily decamped, and went off to hide themselves.
The stranger, while the landlord was receiving the travellers, had proceeded to the thickest part of the garden.
On reaching the little gate to which we have referred, he whistled gently.
Almost immediately two men seemed to rise from the midst of the darkness, and came up to him.
Each of these men had a long rapier at his side, pistols in his girdle, and a musketoon in his hand.
"What is there new?" the stranger asked; "Have you seen anything, Michael?"
"Captain," the man answered, to whom the question was addressed, "I have seen nothing, but still I fear a trap."
"A trap?" the stranger repeated.
"Yes," Michael continued, "Bowline has taken bearings of several ill-looking fellows who seem desirous of boarding us."
"Stuff! You are mad, Michael. You have seen the travellers who have just arrived at the inn."
"No, captain; on the contrary, they exactly resemble the fellows who have been chasing us ever since the day before yesterday, regular Cardinal's bloodhounds, I'll wager."
The stranger appeared to reflect. "Are they far off?" he at length asked.
"Speak, Bowline, my boy," said Michael, turning to his comrade, "and don't shiver your sails, the captain is hailing you."
"Well, then, Captain," said Bowline, a sturdy Breton, with a crafty look, "I sighted them over the starboard quarter at about four o'clock; I spread all my canvas to distance them, and I fancy I have left them four or five cables length in the rear."
"In that case we have about an hour before us?"
"Yes, about, Captain," Bowline replied.
"That is more than we want; listen, my lads, and swear on your honour as sailors to obey me."
"You may be quite sure we shan't fail, Captain," they answered.
"I reckon on you."
"Shiver my topsails, we know that," Michael replied.
"Whatever may happen to me," the stranger continued, "leave me to act alone, unless I give you express orders to come to my assistance. If the Cardinal's bloodhounds were to arrive while we are up aloft, you will bolt."
"We bolt!" the two sailors exclaimed.
"You must, lads! Who would deliver me if we were all three prisoners?" the stranger asked.
"That's true," Michael answered.
"Well then, that's settled, is it not?"
"Yes, Captain."
"Ah! By the way, if I am arrested you will want money to liberate me; take this."
He placed in their hands a heavy purse, which the sailors accepted without any remark.
"Now follow me, and keep your weather eye open, my lads."
"All right, Captain," Michael answered, "we are on watch."
The stranger then proceeded towards the house, closely followed by the two sailors. He reached the passage, at the end of which the travellers' room was, at the moment when Master Pivois and his wife were locking themselves in their bedroom.
The coach, guarded by the driver and a footman, was still standing in front of the principal entrance, but the three men passed unnoticed.
So soon as the landlady had left the room, the traveller who appeared to have a certain degree of authority over his companions, opened the bedroom door, doubtless to make certain there was no spy listening; then he took a chair, sat down by the fire, and made a sign to his companions to imitate him; the two lackeys alone remained standing near the door, with their hands resting on the muzzles of their carbines, butts of which were on the ground.
For some moments there was a funereal silence in this room, although six persons were assembled in it.
At length the traveller made up his mind to speak, and addressed the young lady, who was reclining in her chair, with her head bent on her breast and pendant arms.
"My daughter," he said, in a grave voice, and speaking in Spanish, "the moment has arrived for a clear and distinct explanation between us, for we have only four leagues to travel ere we reach the end of our long journey. I intend to remain twenty-four hours in this hostelry, in order to give you time to repair your strength, and allow you to appear in a proper state before the man for whom I destine you."