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He took a whole seat for himself this time; for he placed his portmanteau and his basket next him, and they took up a deal of room. He met the horse-dealer in Bergamo without difficulty, and they travelled along in the same carriage together, and then across the lake. When they left the boat they went towards the inn, where the big post-wagon stood with the horses already harnessed.
Now he saw this happy creature nearer; for the post-wagon stopped, and the lad never once removed his eyes from the wonderful man, as he came down from his perch, stepped into the inn, and came out again with an enormous piece of black bread in his hand, upon which lay a large piece of cheese.
Franz, waiting rather impatiently till the conference was over. "'What a time you have been, Franz! she began; but there was no time to talk about it, for they all knew that the coach, or post-wagon, as they call it in Germany, was waiting. "Mrs. Franz wrung her son's hand. "'Remember what I've said, my dearest Franz! she cried. "'Trust me! was Mr. Franz's significant reply.
'Seven miles, she said, 'but here is Franz and the post-wagon. Franz, you will be glad to give the gentleman a seat beside you. The sheepish-looking youth muttered something which I took to be assent, and finished off a glass of beer. From his eyes and manner he looked as if he were half drunk.
The post-wagon which set out from Arras at one o'clock every night, after the mail from Paris had passed, arrived at M. sur M. a little before five o'clock in the morning.
"'You'll not forget my rule? whispered papa. "'Forget, sir? no, that's not possible, answered Mr. Franz in a great hurry, as he ran off to catch the post-wagon; for they could see it in the distance beginning to move, though part of the young gentleman's luggage was on board. "Well! he was just in time; but what do you think was the next thing he did, after keeping the people waiting?
I may no longer hear this voice, which is forever sounding in my enraptured ears, no longer see those fearful but wondrous eyes." With feverish haste and trembling hands he made up his little parcel. A few hours later the post-wagon rolled by Eckhof's dwelling. A young man with pale, haggard face and tearful eyes gazed up at his windows.
Again I was disappointed. A long, rude post-wagon, pulled by eight horses and driven by a man on an active little nag, was groaning its way south; a solitary horseman was ambling north and that was all I could see. What had happened to the Colonel? Were the dragoons in the town or not?
He was very tired, and remembered suddenly that he had not eaten any thing since the noonday meal of the day before. But he was not discouraged, for now the way was all down hill; and, after that, he should undoubtedly reach the lake. While he sat there, the big post-wagon came rumbling along.
"The beautiful Louisa de Coligny, whose father and former husband both had fallen at the massacre of St. Bartholomew, was coming to be fourth wife to the Prince, and of course," said Lambert, "we Hollanders were too gallant to allow the lady to enter the town on foot. No, sir, we sent or rather my ancestors did a clean, open post-wagon to meet her, with a plank across it for her to sit upon!"
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