The Son of Monte-Cristo
Chapter 81 : "What's the matter with the floods?" said the old soldier."The enor

"What's the matter with the floods?" said the old soldier.

"The enormous rainfall of the last few weeks has swollen all the mountain lakes," said the host, vivaciously, "and the road to Remiremont is under water, so that it would be impossible for you to pa.s.s."

"That would be bad," exclaimed the carman, excitedly.

"It would be dangerous," remarked the old soldier.

"Oh, yes, sir; last year two travellers were drowned between Sainte-Ame and Remiremont; to tell the truth, the gentlemen looked like you!"

"Thanks for the compliment!"

"The gentlemen probably had no guide," said the carman.

"No."

"Well, we shall take a guide along; can you get one for us?"

"To-morrow, but not to-day."

"Why not?"

"Because my people are busy; but to-morrow it can be done."

In the meantime, the acrobats had finished their meal. Girdel arose, and, drawing close to the travellers, said:

"If the gentlemen desire, they can go with us to-morrow to Remiremont."

"Oh, that is a good idea," said the host gleefully; "accept, gentlemen.

If Girdel conducts you, you can risk it without any fear."

In spite of the uncommon appearance of the athlete, the strangers did not hesitate to accept Girdel's offer; they exchanged glances, and the soldier said:

"Accepted, sir. We are strangers here, and would have surely lost ourselves. When do you expect to go?"

"To-morrow morning. To-night we give a performance here, and with the dawn of day we start for Remiremont."

"Good. Can I invite you now to join us in a gla.s.s of wine?"

Girdel protested more politely than earnestly; Schwan brought a bottle and gla.s.ses, and the giant sat down by the strangers.

While this was going on, the first comer appeared to be deeply immersed in the paper, though he had not lost a word of the conversation, and as Firejaws took a seat near the strangers, he began again to laugh mockingly.

Robeckal and Rolla now left the dining-room, while Fanfaro, Caillette and Bob.i.+.c.hel still remained seated; a minute later Robeckal returned, and drawing near to Girdel, softly said to him:

"Master."

"Well?"

"Do you need me?"

"What for?"

"To erect the booth?"

"No, Fanfaro and Bob.i.+.c.hel will attend to it."

"Then good-by for the present."

Robeckal left. Hardly had the door closed behind him than the man in the brown overcoat stopped reading his paper and left the room too.

"One word, friend," he said to Robeckal.

"Quick, what does it concern?"

"Twenty francs for you, if you answer me properly."

"Go ahead."

"What is this Firejaws?"

"Athlete, acrobat, wrestler--anything you please."

"What is his right name?"

"Girdel, Cesar Girdel."

"Do you know the men with whom he just spoke?"

"No."

"You hate Girdel?"

"Who told you so, and what is it your business?"

"Ah, a great deal. If you hate him we can make a common thing of it. You belong to his troupe?"

"Yes, for the present."

"Bah, long enough to earn a few gold pieces."

"What is asked of me for that?"

"You? Not much. You shall have an opportunity to pay back the athlete everything you owe him in the way of hate, and besides you will be well rewarded."

Robeckal shrugged his shoulders.

"Humbug," he said, indifferently.

"No, I mean it seriously."