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Jean-Jacques's impatience made him follow Max within twenty minutes. Kouski, no doubt under orders from his master, walked the horse through the town. "If they get to Paris, all is lost," thought Monsieur Hochon. At this moment, a lad from the faubourg de Rome came to the Hochon house with a letter for Baruch.
At this moment eleven private soldiers, among whom were Benjamin and Kouski, appeared at the door of the room and repeated the toast, "To the Grand Army!" "Come in, my sons; we are going to drink His health." The old soldiers came in and stood behind the officers. "You see He is not dead!" said Kouski to an old sergeant, who had perhaps been grieving that the Emperor's agony was over.
Max had picked up in the purlieus of Issoudun an old lancer of the Imperial Guard, a Pole named Kouski, now very poor, who asked nothing better than to quarter himself in Monsieur Rouget's house as the captain's servant. Max was Kouski's idol, especially after the duel with the three royalists.
To keep Philippe from assisting his uncle at this crisis, he had given Kouski strict orders not to open the door to any one. Flore away, the miserable old man grew frantic, and the situation of things approached a crisis. During his walk through the town, Maxence Gilet was avoided by many persons who a day or two earlier would have hastened to shake hands with him.
At this moment eleven private soldiers, among whom were Benjamin and Kouski, appeared at the door of the room and repeated the toast, "To the Grand Army!" "Come in, my sons; we are going to drink His health." The old soldiers came in and stood behind the officers. "You see He is not dead!" said Kouski to an old sergeant, who had perhaps been grieving that the Emperor's agony was over.
My scheme is only a reproduction of Samson's foxes, as related in the Bible. But Samson was an incendiary, and therefore no philanthropist; while we, like the Brahmins, are the protectors of a persecuted race. Mademoiselle Flore Brazier has already set all her mouse-traps, and Kouski, my right-arm, is hunting field-mice. I have spoken."
"That will affront Mademoiselle Brazier," said old Hochon. "No, no, madame; swallow the pill. If you can't get the whole property, secure a small legacy." The Hochons were not clever enough to match Max. In the middle of breakfast Kouski brought over a letter from Monsieur Rouget, addressed to his sister, Madame Bridau. Madame Hochon made her husband read it aloud, as follows:
"It is Max! it is Max!" cried voices outside; and then a deep silence reigned in the room and in the street, for Gilet's known character made every one expect a taunt. "May we all meet again at this time next year," said Max, bowing ironically to Philippe. "It's coming!" whispered Kouski to his neighbor. "The Paris police would never allow a banquet of this kind," said Potel to Philippe.
Monsieur Hochon had already notified Philippe of Flore's departure; and the colonel rose from Monsieur Mignonnet's dinner-table to rush to the place Saint-Jean; for he at once guessed the meaning of this clever strategy. When Philippe presented himself at his uncle's house, Kouski answered through a window that Monsieur Rouget was unable to see any one.
"This is Saint-Lambert's day, and he who deserts his place, loses it," remarked Benjamin to the Pole. "My master will shut your mouth for you," answered Kouski, departing to join Max who established himself at the hotel de la Poste. On the morrow, between nine and eleven o'clock, all the women talked to each other from door to door throughout the town.
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