The Last Vendée; or, the She-Wolves of Machecoul. Alexandre Dumas

Чтение книги онлайн.

XVIII.

       Table of Contents

      THE MAN FROM LA LOGERIE.

      Courtin,--for it was he whom Courte-Joie designated as the man from La Logerie,--Courtin had entered the outer room. Except for the little cry of warning, so well imitated that it was really like the cry of a frightened partridge, no one appeared to take any notice of his presence. The men who were drinking continued their talk, although, serious as their manner was when Courtin entered, it now became suddenly very gay and noisy.

      The farmer looked about him, but evidently did not find in the first room the person he wanted, for he resolutely opened the door of the glass partition and showed his sneaking face on the threshold of the inner room. There again, no one seemed to notice him. Mariette alone, Aubin Courte-Joie's niece, who was waiting on the customers, withdrew her attention from the cider cups, and looking at Courtin said, as she would have done to any of her uncle's guests:--

      "What shall I bring you, Monsieur Courtin?"

      "Coffee," replied Courtin, inspecting the faces that were round the table and in the corners of the room.

      "Very good; sit down," said Mariette. "I'll bring it to your seat presently."

      "That's not worth while," replied Courtin, good-humoredly; "pour it out now. I'll drink it here in the chimney-corner with the friends."

      No one seemed to object to this qualification; but neither did any one stir to make room for him. Courtin was therefore obliged to make further advances.

      "Are you well, gars Aubin?" he asked, addressing the tavern-keeper.

      "As you see," replied the latter, without turning his head.

      It was obvious to Courtin that he was not received with much good-will; but he was not a man to disconcert himself for a trifle like that.

      "Here, Mariette," said he, "give me a stool, that I may sit down near your uncle."

      "There are no stools left, Maître Courtin," replied the girl. "I should think your eyes were good enough to see that."

      "Well, then, your uncle will give me his," continued Courtin, with audacious familiarity, though at heart he felt little encouraged by the behavior of the landlord and his customers.

      "If you will have it," grumbled Aubin Courte-Joie, "you must, being as how I am master of the house, and it shall never be said that any man was refused a seat at the Holly Branch when he wanted to sit down."

      "Then give me your stool, as you say, smooth-tongue, for there's the very man I'm after, right next to you."

      "Who's that?" said Aubin, rising; and instantly a dozen other stools were offered.

      "Jean Oullier," replied Courtin; "and it's my belief that here he is."

      Hearing his name, Jean Oullier rose and said, in a tone that was almost menacing:--

      "What do you want with me?"

      "Well, well! you needn't eat me up because I want to see you," replied the mayor of la Logerie. "What I have to say is of more importance to you than it is to me."

      "Maître Courtin," said Jean Oullier, in a grave tone, "whatever you may choose to pretend, we are not friends; and what's more, you know it so well that you have not come here with any good intentions."

      "Well, you are mistaken, gars Oullier."

      "Maître Courtin," continued Jean Oullier, paying no attention to the signs which Aubin Courte-Joie made, exhorting him to prudence, "Maître Courtin, ever since we have known each other you have been a Blue, and you bought bad property."

      "Bad property!" exclaimed Courtin, with his jeering smile.

      "Oh! I know what I mean, and so do you. I mean ill-gotten property. You've been hand and glove with the curs of the towns; you have persecuted the peasantry and the villagers,--those who have kept their faith in God and the king. What is there in common between you, who have done all that, and me, who have done just the reverse?"

      "True," replied Courtin, "true, gars Oullier, I have not navigated in your waters; but, for all that, I say that neighbors ought not to wish the death of each other. I have come in search of you to do you a service; I'll swear to that."

      "I don't want your services, Maître Courtin," replied Jean Oullier.

      "Why not?" persisted the farmer.

      "Because I am certain they hide some treachery."

      "So you refuse to listen to me?"

      "I refuse," replied the huntsman, roughly.

      "You are wrong," said Aubin Courte-Joie, in a low voice; for he thought the frank, outspoken rudeness of his friend a mistaken man[oe]uvre.

      "Very good," said Courtin; "then remember this. If harm comes to the inhabitants of the château de Souday, you have nobody to thank but yourself, gars Oullier."

      There was evidently some special meaning in Courtin's manner of saying the word "inhabitants;" "inhabitants" of course included guests. Jean Oullier could not mistake this meaning, and in spite of his habitual self-command he turned pale. He regretted he had been so decided, but it was dangerous now to retrace his steps. If Courtin had suspicions, such a retreat would confirm them. He therefore did his best to master his emotion, and sat down again, turning his back on Courtin with an indifferent air; in fact, his manner was so careless that Courtin, sly dog as he was, was taken in by it. He did not leave the tavern as hastily as might have been expected after delivering his warning threat; on the contrary, he searched his pockets a long time to find enough change to pay for his coffee. Aubin Courte-Joie understood the meaning of this by-play, and profited by Courtin's lingering to put in a word himself.

      "My good Jean," he said, addressing Jean Oullier in a hearty way, "we have long been friends, and have followed the same road for many years, I hope--here are two wooden legs that prove it. Well, I am not afraid to say to you, before Monsieur Courtin, that you are wrong, don't you see, wrong! So long as a hand is closed none but a fool will say, 'I know what is in it.' It is true that Monsieur Courtin" (Aubin Courte-Joie punctiliously СКАЧАТЬ