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Updated: June 18, 2025
The truth was that, in spite of his good intentions, Bobichel was dead with sleep, and presently he tumbled upon his mattress, and loud snores informed the two friends that he had succumbed to their entreaties. Then, and not until then, Fanfar leaned toward Gudel.
Seeing the police in uniform, he uttered an exclamation. "The police in my house!" he cried. "I ask your pardon, sir," answered the Brigadier of police, "but there was urgent need. In the name of the king!" Schwann repeated the words with a sigh. "You have conspirators lodging here enemies of the monarchy!" "You are greatly mistaken, Brigadier " "Not so. Their names are Gudel and Fanfar."
All the actors when not occupied on the stage assisted in it. Gudel at intervals played the trombone. The gallery was crowded; so crowded that, from time to time, there were ominous crackings, but the people in their excitement did not notice this. But a great silence fell on the spectators, when Irène de Salves entered.
No; there were no smiles on his lips, no quips and cranks on his tongue. His thinness had become emaciation. Irène went forward. "You come from him?" she said, hastily. "From Fanfar? Oh! no not directly, at least. They won't let me see him, you know." "Who sends you here, then?" "Gudel Iron Jaws, you know." "Why did he not come himself?" "Ah! that I can't say. Gudel bade me give this note to you."
The man behind the newspaper did the same, and the two met in the passage. "One word, if you please," said the man in the brown coat. "Answer me frankly, and you shall have twenty francs. Who is Iron Jaws?" "A mountebank." "He has another name?" "Yes Gudel." "Do you know the two men with whom he is talking?" "No." "You hate him?" "What is that to you?"
Might it not be if he did what this man desired that in it he would also find his revenge? "If you hate Gudel," this man had said, "I will give you an opportunity of paying off old scores." Robeccal opened the door and looked out. Yes, these were the men. Turning to the giantess, "Listen!" he said, "it is by no means certain that all is lost." "I don't understand." "No, but tell me quick.
One of the peasants did tell me that he always thought this Master Simon he taught a school was a great lord in disguise, but there are always just such foolish stories, and you know in those days great lords were not often killed in defending France." Fanfar entered somewhat abruptly. "This is the lad, sir," said Gudel, drawing him to his side. "He is good, he is honest, he is strong!"
"She can't know anything!" said Gudel, uneasily. "Bobichel!" he called. "I am here, master!" answered the clown. "Where is Robeccal?" "I don't know he went away three hours ago." "Where was he going?" "I don't know I was too sleepy to ask." Gudel questioned Caillette again. "Had La Roulante distinctly spoken of papers?" It was only too clear that there had been spies in their camp.
The governess uttered a small gasp, and the young girl shrugged her shoulders impatiently. She drew out a handful of gold pieces from her bag. "Take these," she said, "and do the best you can for me." Gudel was puzzled and troubled. "Fanfar!" he called, "have you time to construct a sort of private box for these ladies?"
"Ah! you have come, children, have you?" cried Gudel. "And I am thankful, for hunger gnaws my vitals." "And mine, too," Bobichel replied, throwing a somersault as he spoke; which he ended with a sudden leap on the shoulders of the good Schwann, who stood the shock with wonderful philosophy. But at the third shout he decided to go outside.
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