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The young lady wore a black dress, and when she saw the athlete she ran to meet him and sobbingly cried: "He's not dead, is he?" "No, he is not dead," confirmed Girdel; and seeing Irene's pale face, he said, more to himself: "I knew how the news would work, and yet it could not be helped as God pleases, it will all be right again." "But where is he?" asked Irene anxiously.
When I saw the little one last, about six years ago, she was as pretty as a picture." "She is seventeen now, and still very handsome." "What are the relations between your wife and you?" "They couldn't be better; Rolla cannot bear the little one." The host nodded. "Girdel," he said, softly, "when you told me that day that you were going to marry the 'Cannon Queen, I was frightened.
Simon handed him his pocket-knife and the policeman began to saw the rope through. Luckily for Girdel, the work went very slow, for the knife was as dull as the rope was thick, and Simon, who only now began to remember that Girdel must not be killed at any price, loudly exclaimed: "Stop, inspector, are you out of your senses?" The policeman was no longer able to heed the warning.
Bobichel hesitated no longer; he threw himself on his hard couch and in less than five minutes he was fast asleep. As soon as Girdel found himself alone with Fanfaro, he said, in an anxious voice: "Fanfaro, tell me what ails you. I know you too well not to be aware that something extraordinary has happened. Place confidence in me; perhaps I can help you."
The poor fellow rode away in the night to get a physician, and " "A physician? For me?" laughed Girdel. "Thank God, we are not so far gone." "But you were unconscious more than half an hour; we became frightened, and Fanfaro rode to Vagney." "He rode? On our old mare, perhaps? If he only returns," said Girdel, anxiously. "The water must be dangerous about Vagney."
In case any one asks you, simply say you know nothing." "Neither I do," remarked Schwan. "So much the better, then you do not need to tell a lie; I advise you in your own interest not to say anything." The host went away and growled on the stairs: "Confound big people and their servants. I prefer guests like Girdel and his troupe."
"He will soon be here," replied the marquis; "the horse ran away with me, and I could not hold him." "Then the brave fellow is not injured?" asked Schwan, vivaciously. "God forbid; quick, give me a glass of brandy and lead me to Girdel; I must speak to him at once."
Robeckal stretched out his hand for the gold piece, let it fall into his pocket, and disappeared without a word. "You have come too late, my friend," he laughed to himself. "Girdel will be a dead man before the morrow comes, as sure as my name is Robeckal."
The man whose duty it was to bury those who died in the Hotel Dieu had, for a good round sum, consented to allow Girdel to do his work, and so the athlete had nothing else to do than to clothe himself appropriately and hurry back to the hospital. The superintendent had just ordered the hearse to be put in readiness, when the Marquis of Fougereuse was announced.
If her father and Bobichel, even Fanfaro, had come, she would have felt at ease. But no one showed himself, and Caillette, who knew that Girdel and Fanfaro were wanted, did not dare to make any inquiries. She ran about in desperation. The only clew was the milkman, but where could she find him?
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