“And sold the mules?”
“For ten pistoles each.”
“Which they paid you?”
“Here is the money.”
“Ventre de biche! you are a great man, let us go on.”
“But I am thirsty.”
“Well, drink while I saddle the beasts, but not too much.”
“A bottle.”
“Very well.”
Gorenflot drank two, and came to give the rest of the money back to Chicot, who felt half inclined to give it to him, but reflecting that if Gorenflot had money he would no longer be obedient, he refrained. They rode on, and the next evening Chicot came up with Nicolas David, still disguised as a lackey, and kept him in sight all the way to Lyons, whose gates they all three entered on the eighth day after their departure from Paris.
CHAPTER XXX.
HOW CHICOT AND HIS COMPANION INSTALLED THEMSELVES AT THE HOTEL OF THE CROSS, AND HOW THEY WERE RECEIVED BY THE HOST
Chicot watched Nicolas David into the principal hotel of the place, and then said to Gorenflot, “Go in and bargain for a private room, say that you expect your brother, then come out and wait about for me, and I will come in when it is dark, and you can bring me straight to my room. Do you understand?”
“Perfectly.”
“Choose a good room, as near as possible to that of the traveler who has just arrived; it must look on to the street, and on no account pronounce my name.”
Gorenflot acquitted himself marvelously of the commission. Their room was only separated by a partition from that of Nicolas David.
“You deserve a recompense,” said Chicot to him, “and you shall have sherry wine for supper.”
“I never got tipsy on that wine; it would be agreeable.”
“You shall to-night. But now ramble about the town.”
“But the supper?”
“I shall be ready against your return; here is a crown meanwhile.”
Gorenflot went off quite happy, and then Chicot made, with a gimlet, a hole in the partition at about the height of his eye. Through this, he could hear distinctly all that passed, and he could just see the host talking to Nicolas David, who was professing to have been sent on a mission by the king, to whom he professed great fidelity. The host did not reply, but Chicot fancied he could see an ironical smile on his lip whenever the king’s name was mentioned.
“Is he a leaguer?” thought Chicot; “I will find out.”
When the host left David he came to visit Chicot, who said, “Pray sit down, monsieur; and before we make a definitive arrangement, listen to my history. You saw me this morning with a monk?”
“Yes, monsieur.”
“Silence! that monk is proscribed.”
“What! is he a disguised Huguenot?”
Chicot took an offended air. “Huguenot, indeed! he is my relation, and I have no Huguenot relations. On the contrary, he is so fierce an enemy of the Huguenots, that he has fallen into disgrace with his majesty Henri III., who protects them, as you know.”
The host began to look interested. “Silence,” said he.
“Why, have you any of the king’s people here?”
“I fear so; there is a traveler in there.”
“Then we must fly at once, for proscribed, menaced – ”
“Where will you go?”
“We have two or three addresses given to us by an innkeeper we know, M. la Hurière.”
“Do you know La Hurière?”
“Yes, we made his acquaintance on the night of St. Bartholomew.”
“Well, I see you and your relation are holy people; I also know La Hurière. Then you say this monk – ”
“Had the imprudence to preach against the Huguenots, and with so much success that the king wanted to put him in prison.”
“And then?”
“Ma foi, I carried him off.”
“And you did well.”
“M. de Guise offered to protect him.”
“What! the great Henri?”
“Himself; but I feared civil war.”
“If you are friends of M. de Guise, you know this;” and he made a sort of masonic sign by which the leaguers recognized each other.
Chicot, who had seen both this and the answer to it twenty times during that famous night, replied, “And you this?”
“Then,” said the innkeeper, “you are at home here; my house is yours, look on me as a brother, and if you have no money – ”
Chicot drew out his purse. The sight of a well-filled purse is always agreeable, even to a generous host.
“Our journey,” continued Chicot, “is paid for by the treasurer of the Holy Union, for we travel to propagate the faith. Tell us of an inn where we may be safe.”
“Nowhere more so than here, and if you wish it, the other traveler shall turn out.”