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Updated: May 29, 2025
A contemptuous smile played about the young man's lips when he saw it was Robeckal. The wretch looked like the personification of fear; his knees quaked together, his face was covered with cold perspiration, and his teeth chattered audibly. Robeckal had been still half intoxicated when he undertook to carry out Simon's proposition to play the regicide.
Bushy hair of a dirty yellow color hung in a confused mass over the shoulders of the virago, and her blue cloth jacket and woollen dress were full of grease spots. Robeckal walked beside the wagon. He was of small stature, but nervous and muscular.
"Oh, Bobichel!" exclaimed Fanfaro, gratefully, "if you want to help us?" "Of course I do. I will accompany master to Robeckal, for I also have a bone to pick with the scoundrel." Louison's crazy mother had passed a miserable night.
Before Robeckal had consented to play the part of a regicide, he had made his conditions, and not before they were accepted had he undertaken the job. He had been told that he would be condemned to death pro forma, and set free at the right moment. He would then be given an amount necessary for him to go to England or America and live there.
"Yes, the scoundrels happened to be smarter than other people," came a mocking voice from the branch of an oak-tree, and looking up, Robeckal saw the clown, who, with the quickness of an ape, had now slid down the tree and disappeared in the bush. "Villain!" exclaimed Robeckal, angrily, and taking a gun from one of the policemen he fired a shot at Bobichel. Did the shot take effect?
Robeckal alone was not to be seen. "Oh, Fanfaro, is he dead?" sobbed Caillette. Fanfaro was silent and bent anxiously over Girdel; Rolla, on the other hand, looked angrily at the young man and hissed in his ear: "Do not touch him. I will restore him myself." Instead of giving the virago an answer, Fanfaro looked sharply at her.
What Rolla said further was drowned by the noise Talizac made as he threw himself against the door. It did not move an inch though; and before the vicomte could try again, Robeckal hurried up with a long knife in his hand. "What is the matter?" he angrily cried. "Your friend the vicomte forgot his purse and thinks he can get the girl on credit," mockingly replied Rolla.
"No; quick to horse!" cried the brigadier to his men; and while they got into the saddle, Robeckal looked in the stables and discovered the loss of the two horses. The tracks were soon found, and the pursuers, with Robeckal at the head, quickly gained the forest. But here something singular happened.
Schwan, who was crying like a child, threw a sharp look at Robeckal, and Fanfaro now said: "Is there no physician in the neighborhood?" "No, there is no physician in Sainte-Ame, and Vagney is several miles distant." "No matter, I shall go to Vagney." "Impossible, the floods have destroyed all the roads; you risk your life, Fanfaro," said Schwan.
"Thank God all is not lost yet," whispered Fanfaro, handing Bobichel the paper. "One moment," said the clown; "I have an idea which I would like to carry out." With a quick movement Bobichel threw Robeckal to the ground, bound him with a thick rope and threw him into a closet. He locked it and putting the key in his pocket, he turned to Rolla.
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