"Not return to it?" she exclaimed. "But are we then to leave it here?"
"I am afraid there is no help for that."
"But, Monsieur, you do not know; there is a treasure in that carriage.
All that we have is packed in it, and if we go without it we go destitute."
"Better, perhaps, to go destitute than not to go at all, Mademoiselle.
I am afraid there is no choice for you."
His manner was a trifle impatient. It irritated him that in such a moment she should give so much thought to her valuables. But in reality she was thinking of them inasmuch as they concerned her mother, who was below, and her father and brother who awaited them in Prussia, whither they had separately emigrated. The impatience in his tone stung her into a feeling of resentment, that for the moment seemed to blot out the much that she owed him. A reproachful word was trembling on her lips, when suddenly he put out his hand.
"Hist!" he whispered, the concentrated look of one who listens stamped upon his face. His sharp ears had detected some sound which - perhaps through her preoccupation - she had not noticed. He stepped quickly to the Captain's side, and taking up the lamp by its chain, he leapt into the air like a clown, and came down on his heels with a thud that shook the chamber. Simultaneously he dropped the lamp with a clatter, and sent a shout re-echoing through the house.
The girl stared at him with parted lips and the least look of fear in her eyes. Was he gone clean mad of a sudden?
But now the sound which had warned him of someone's approach reached her ears as well. There were steps on the stairs, which at that alarming noise were instantly quickened. Yet ere they had reached the top La Boulaye was at the door vociferating wildly.
Into the room came the hostess, breathless and grinning with anxiety, and behind her came Guyot, who, startled by the din, had hastened up to inquire into its cause.
At sight of the Captain stretched upon the floor there was a scream from Mother Capoulade and an oath from the soldier.
"Mon Dieu! what has happened?" she cried, hurrying forward.
"Miserable!" exclaimed La Boulaye, with well-feigned anger. "It seems that your wretched hovel is tumbling to pieces, and that men are not safe beneath its roof." And he indicated the broken plaster and the fallen lamp.
"How did it happen, Citoyenne-deputy?" asked Guyot; for all that he drew the only possible inference from what he saw.
"Can you not see how it happened?" returned La Boulaye, impatiently.
"As for you, wretched woman, you will suffer for it, I promise you.
The nation is likely to demand a high price for Captain Charlot's injuries."
"But, bon Dieu, how am I to blame?" wailed the frightened woman.
"To blame," echoed La Boulaye, in a furious voice. "Are you not to blame that you let rooms in a crazy hovel? Let them to emigres as much as you will, but if you let them to good patriots and thereby endanger their lives you must take the consequences. And the consequences in this case are likely to be severe, malheureuse."
He turned now to Guyot, who was kneeling by the Captain, and looking to his hurt.
"Here, Guyot,"he commanded sharply, "reconduct the Citoyenne to her coach. I will perhaps see her again later, when the Captain shall have recovered consciousness. You, Citoyenne Capoulade, assist me to carry him to bed."
Each obeyed him, Guyot readily, as became a soldier, and the hostess trembling with the dread which La Boulaye's words had instilled into her. They got Charlot to bed, and when a half-hour or so later he recovered consciousness, it was to find Guyot watching at his bed-side.
Bewildered, he demanded an explanation of his present position and of the pain in his head, which brought him the memory of a sudden and unaccountable blow he had received, which was the last thing that he remembered. Guyot, who had never for a moment entertained a doubt of the genuineness of the mise-en-scene La Boulaye had prepared, answered him with the explanation of how he had been struck by the falling lamp, whereupon Charlot fell to cursing lamps and crumblings with horrid volubility. That done he would have risen, but that La Boulaye, entering at that moment, insisted that he should remain abed.
"Are you mad?" the Deputy expostulated, "or is it that you do not appreciate the nature of your hurt? Diable! I have known a man die through insisting to be about with a cracked skull that was as nothing to yours."
"Name of a name! gasped Charlot, who in such matters was profoundly ignorant and correspondingly credulous. "Is it so serious?"
"Not serious if you lie still and sleep. You will probably be quite well by to-morrow. But if you move to-night the consequences may well be fatal."
"But I cannot sleep at this hour,"the Captain complained. "I am very wakeful,"
"We will try to find you a sleeping potion, then,"said La Boulaye.
"I hope the hosteen may have something that will answer the purpose.
Meanwhile, Guyot, do not allow the Captain to talk. If you would have him well to-morrow, remember that it is of the first importance that he should have utter rest tonight."
With that he went in quest of Dame Capoulade to ascertain whether she possessed any potion that would induce sleep. He told her that the Captain was seriously injured, and that unless he slept he might die, and, quickened by the terror of what might befall her in such a case, the woman presently produced a small phial full of a brown, viscous fluid. What it might be he had no notion, being all unversed in the mysteries of the pharmacopoeia; but she told him that it had belonged to her now defunct husband, who had always said that ten drops of it would make a man sleep the clock round.
He experimented on the Captain with ten drops, and within a quarter of an hour of taking the draught of red wine in which it was administered, Charlot's deep breathing proclaimed him fast asleep.
