"Yes, to be sure I have; and when there's any fighting to be done, I am always on hand; eh, father?"

"Oh! to be sure! You are a wrong-headed youngster! anybody can see that!"

Catherine appeared and announced that supper was served in the next room.

"Let us adjourn to the table, messieurs," said Monsieur Gerval, escorting the newcomers to the dining-room. They took their seats, the old peddler beside his host. Dupre, as a very old servant, who had become his master's friend, always ate at his table; he took his place, but Monsieur Gerval noticed that there was another plate beside him.

"For whom is this place, Dupre?" asked Monsieur Gerval.

"It is for our young lady, monsieur, or for her daughter, if either of them should come."

"You know very well, my friend, that they are asleep now; Constance isn't in the habit of sitting up so late."

"She isn't asleep, monsieur, for I heard a noise in her room."

The old man cast a glance at his two companions, then addressed his host:

"You have ladies in your house? If we prevent them from coming to the table, we will go up to our room at once."

"No, indeed! I have only a young woman and a child. The poor mother, alas! is bereft of her reason. She is an unfortunate creature, who has a too loving heart."

"I am sorry for her!"

"Let us drink to her health, messieurs," said tall Gervais, filling his gla.s.s and his neighbor's.

"That fellow doesn't stand much on ceremony," thought Dupre, as he glanced at the peddler, who took the bottle himself; "the devil! he would exhaust our cellar in short order."

The old man glanced at his oldest son from time to time; he seemed displeased to see him drink so often, and reproached him for not being more temperate.

"You see, our host's wine is delicious," replied Gervais; "and you know that I am a good judge, father."

"Do not spare it," said Monsieur Gerval; "it will give you strength to continue your journey to-morrow."

"With pleasure, my dear monsieur; I am inclined to crook my elbow a bit."

Dupre made a wry face; it seemed to him that Monsieur Gervais used some very peculiar expressions, and the more he drank, the less reserve he manifested. Honest Gerval excused it, and was much amused by the joviality of the peddler, which did not seem to please the old man so much.

"Why don't you drink, Jean?" said Gervais, nudging his neighbor; "you're a sad fellow! And you, my dear and honored father; you make eyes at me that shine like salt cellars! Morbleu! I am the only one of the family that knows how to laugh; eh, monsieur?--Monsieur de Gerval, your health and your family's and your lunatic's; and yours, you old fox, who look at us as if we'd come from Arabia Petraea.--Here's everybody's health! I am not stingy!"

"Excuse him, monsieur," the old man said to Dupre, "but when he has drunk a little, he doesn't know what he says."

Dupre frowned and made no reply.

"I don't know what I say!" cried Gervais; "ah! ten thousand dogs! you think that, do you, my dear father? Well! you lie like the blockhead you are! Isn't that so, Jean? isn't he a blockhead?"

The old man rose in a rage.

"If it weren't for the respect that I owe to our host," he said, "I'd punish you for your insolence; but I take pity on the situation you're in; come with me, and let us not keep monsieur from retiring any longer."

"That's so, that's so, my dear father; I rather think I have been talking nonsense, and it's more prudent to go to bed; meanwhile I ask you for your blessing."

As he said this, Gervais approached the old man, who pushed him away, and bade Monsieur Gerval good-night, apologizing again for his oldest son's conduct.

Lucas took candles and was about to escort the strangers to the room set apart for them, when they heard a noise in the courtyard. The peddlers expressed surprise and Dupre ran to the window to look out; he saw Adeline, dressed in a simple deshabille, holding a light in her hand and walking excitedly through the drifts of snow in the courtyard.

"It is she, monsieur," said Dupre to his master; "it's very surprising that she has left her room so late."

"Is that the poor woman?" asked the old man.

"Pardieu! I want to see the mad woman!" cried tall Gervais; "I am curious to know whether or not she is pretty."

He ran at once to the window but Adeline had already returned to her room.

"Good-night, messieurs," said Gerval to the strangers; "I will see you to-morrow before you leave."

The peddlers went up to the second floor, Lucas left them a light, and hastened down to his room, which adjoined the kitchen, taking care to barricade the door, from top to bottom, as Dupre had advised.

The latter, left alone with his master, for the cook had already retired, communicated to Monsieur Gerval his observations on the subject of the strangers.

"You must agree, monsieur," he said, "that that tall fellow has the look of a vagabond. His way of talking and of behaving, his lack of respect toward his father----"

"What do you expect? He had had a little too much to drink!"

"His peculiar expressions----"

"He has been in the army."

"Oh! that isn't the language of a soldier.--G.o.d grant, my dear master, that you do not repent the hospitality you have given to these people!"

"What are you afraid of?"

"I don't know, but everything about them looks suspicious to me; even the silence of that other one, whose sinister expression does not indicate an honest heart."

"Nonsense, Dupre! calm your excitement and go to bed. A night is soon pa.s.sed."

"Yes, when you sleep! but it is very long sometimes. What pleases me is that my room is next to yours; if you hear any noise, you will call me instantly, won't you, monsieur?"

"Yes, my good Dupre; go now and don't be frightened."

Dupre left his master regretfully; the latter went to bed in perfect confidence, and soon forgot in sleep his old servant's words.

Dupre's room was on the first floor, adjoining Monsieur Gerval's; but his door opened on the landing, from which one flight of stairs led up to the second floor and another down to the courtyard.

Tormented by an anxiety which he could not overcome, Dupre resolved to keep awake, and to try to clear up his suspicions. He looked from his window at the strangers' apartment; the light was still burning.

"They have not gone to bed," he said; "if I only could hear them talking! I will try."

He left his room noiselessly, without a light, and went up to the second floor; he stopped at the door of the peddlers' room; but he remembered then that there was a small dressing-room between the hall and the bedroom, which made it impossible to hear what they said, from the landing. Dupre was about to go down again, when he remembered that the top of the chimney of the room where the strangers were was directly in front of the round window in the loft. He at once went up to the loft, walking with the utmost precaution. He opened the round window very softly, crawled out on his stomach, and placed his ear near the top of the flue; then, thanks to his nearness to the floor below, he easily heard the following conversation: