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"Who is this man," he asked, "who has revealed to you the conversation of Gudel and his accomplices?" "He is a scoundrel named Robeccal, who belongs to their troupe." The Marquis tore a leaf from his note book, and wrote a few words in haste. "Take this man with you, and go to Rémisemont," he said. "Go to the Comte de Vernac, who is a rabid monarchist.
This liaison was furthermore cemented by a common hatred, and now they wanted to kill Gudel and Fanfar. They wished to keep Caillette that they might torture her as children torture young birds. These two excellent persons, Robeccal and the giantess, sat down by the roadside and talked over their plans.
The police rode off at a rapid pace, and Cyprien felt that they must overtake the fugitives. About two miles from the village the road wound round a hill, on one side of which was a deep precipice. Day was breaking, and Robeccal, who of course had joined in the pursuit, rose in his stirrups in hopes to see some sign of the men they were pursuing.
"Halloo!" cried a voice, "you had best meddle with honest people again!" And Bobichel, standing on the side of the road, danced with glee. "You shall pay for that!" shouted Robeccal, and snatching a pistol from the belt of one of the police, he fired at Bobichel. The clown flung out his arms. "They are saved, at all events!" he shouted, as he disappeared, falling into the abyss at his feet.
"If he has anything to do with this matter I will soon finish him up." Fanfar laid his hand on Gudel's shoulder. "My friend," he said, "I hesitate to touch an unhealed wound, but we must speak frankly to each other. La Roulante and this Robeccal went away together. This woman was thoroughly vicious; it is difficult to imagine the scale of vice to which she would not fall.
"I think it is about time!" grumbled one of Robeccal's men in reply. "Oh! I suppose you thought you were to be paid for nothing, did you?" Without heeding the growling of these fellows, Robeccal stepped up to a door and knocked. It was opened by a person who stood back in the shadow, and a hurried conversation took place. Satisfied apparently with what he heard, Robeccal bade his men follow him.
Schwann laughed. "That is ridiculous!" he said. "That may be, but I have orders to arrest these men! Where are they?" "I will show you!" said Robeccal, quickly. The door of the chamber was locked. "Break it in!" cried Robeccal. "Wait! Law before all else." And standing in a military attitude, the Brigadier shouted: "In the name of the king, open!" As may be supposed, there was no reply.
The restaurant was filled with customers, all respectable people with the exception of those seated around a table in the further corner of the room they were doubtful in appearance. When Robeccal, in the discharge of his duties as "extra," came to this table he lingered there, even drinking a glass of wine, first taking care that his employer could not see him.
"Just the same as ever, honest and stupid." "And Robeccal?" "I mean to get rid of him for reasons of my own." "And the little boy?" Gudel shouted with laughter. "The little boy! Just wait until you see him. He is six feet, and a treasure. I am strong, but Fanfar is different from me.
"Upon my honor, I can." The two men continued to talk in a low voice with Gudel, and then they went out. Absorbed in thought, they did not notice a man who started back when they appeared. Robeccal had heard every syllable. Cyprien now arrived at the inn. White, trembling and breathless, he could scarcely reply to the questions addressed to him.
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