On hearing the tumult, which increased as the crowd approached the H?tel de la Lanterne, Madame Teutch appeared at the door. By the light of the torches with which some of the more enthusiastic were provided, she recognized her two guests and the sergeant-major, Augereau, whom they were bringing back in triumph. The fear which Tétrell had sown among the populace was bearing its fruits; the harvest was ripe, and he was reaping hatred.
About thirty kind-hearted men proposed to Pierre Augereau that they should watch over the safety of his pupil, thinking it very possible that Tétrell would profit by the darkness to do him an ill turn. But the sergeant-major thanked them, saying that he himself would watch over his young friend's safety, and would answer for him. But, in order to retain the good-will of the people, which might be useful to them later, the sergeant-major thought it would be wise to offer the leaders of the escort a glass of punch, or some hot wine.
No sooner was the proposal made than they proceeded to invade the kitchen of the Lanterne, and to warm the wine, melt the sugar, and mix the beverage. It was midnight when they parted with cries of, "Long live the Republic!" interspersed with hearty handclasps, and strong oaths of alliance defensive and offensive.
But when the last one was gone, when the door was shut behind them, and the shutters closed so carefully that not even a ray of light could escape through them, Augereau grew very grave, and turning to Eugene said: "Now, my young pupil, we must think of your safety."
[Pg 68]
"What! of my safety? Didn't you just say that I had nothing to fear and that you would answer for my safety?"
"Certainly, I will answer for you, but on the condition that you do what I say."
"And what do you want me to do? I hope you don't intend to suggest some act of cowardice."
"Monsieur le Marquis," said Augereau, "I must have no more of those suspicions, or, by the Republic, you and I will quarrel."
"Come, my good Pierre, don't get angry. What do you want me to do?"
"I have no confidence in a man who disguises himself with a nose like that when it is not carnival time. In the first place, he will not fight."
"Why won't he fight?"
"Because he looks to me like a great coward."
"Yes, but suppose he does fight?"
"If he fights, there is nothing more to say; you risk only a ball or a sword-thrust. But if he doesn't, you risk having your head cut off, and that is what I wish to prevent."
"How?"
"By taking you with me to the barracks of the volunteers of Paris: he won't come after you there, I warrant."
"Hide? Never."
"Tush! My little friend," said the sergeant-major, "don't say such things before Pierre Augereau, whose courage cannot be questioned. No, you will not hide, you will simply wait there. That's all."
"What shall I wait for?"
"Citizen Tétrell's seconds."
"His seconds? He will send them here, and I won't know that they have come, since I won't be here."
"And little Charles? He runs no danger, and what was he put on earth for except to bring us word of what happens? Heavens! what a hard customer you are, and what difficulties you put in a fellow's way."
"And the first thing that happens, no matter how insig[Pg 69]nificant, you will come to the barracks and tell us, won't you, Charles?"
"I give you my word of honor."
"And now," said Augereau, "to the left!"
"Where are we going?"
"To the barracks."
"Through the court?"
"Through the court."
"And why not by the door?"
"Because if we go by the door some curious fellow might be watching, who would follow us just for fun, to see where we were going; while if we go by the court, I know of a certain little gate that leads to a lane where nothing passes, not even a cat. From lane to lane we will reach the barracks, and no one will know where the turkeys perch."
"You will remember your promise, Charles?"
"Although I am two years younger than you, Eugene, my honor is as good as yours; and, besides, the experiences of to-day have made me feel as old as you. Good-by and sleep well; Augereau will take care of your person and I of your honor."
The two boys clasped hands; and the sergeant-major almost broke Charles's fingers, he shook them so hard; then he drew Eugene out into the court, while Charles, with a slight grimace of pain, tried to separate his fingers. This operation finished, he took his candle and the key to his room as usual, and went upstairs.
But scarcely was he in bed before Madame Teutch entered on tiptoe, making signs to him that she had something important to tell him. The boy understood Madame Teutch's mysterious ways well enough by this time not to be surprised at seeing her, even at this unheard-of hour. She approached his bed, murm............