The Son of Monte-Cristo The Son Of Monte Cristo Part 21

The clown looked after him, and then began to pound his own head until tears came to his eyes.

"Idiot! Fool!" he muttered. "Will you never learn any sense. Why did you let that rascal see your game? You must warn Fanfar without delay."

And as he saw some boys looking at him, they thinking that his despair heightened his comic appearance, he began to run toward the inn.

Gudel met him at the door.

"Well, Bob, what is the matter? You look disturbed. Come in, and take a gla.s.s of wine. And Schwann, join us."

An hour later, the Square of Saint Ame was bright with lights, to the great joy of the peasants, who uttered many ohs! and ahs! as they entered the shed. Bob.i.+.c.hel stood at the door.

"Come in, gentlemen and ladies, come in!" And then he continued his shouts. "Wonderful Spectacle. The amazing Iron Jaws! The Wild Woman! And Fanfar! Come in, gentlemen, come in!"

Caillette, behind the curtain, was looking through a hole, with beating heart, murmuring, "She is not coming."

And Robeccal, pa.s.sing La Roulante, whispered in her ear, "It is done!"

A horse, covered with sweat, was pulled up before the door.

"You have not forgotten me?" said Irene de Salves to Bob.i.+.c.hel.

Gudel came forward.

"We were waiting for you before we began. But you are alone!"

"My governess will be here in a moment."

"She has come!" said Caillette, turning pale and looking up at Fanfar, who was arranging an iron chain, and did not seem to have heard.

And the clown continued to say;

"Come in, gentlemen, come in!"

And the peasants, elbowing each other, said, "Oh! we must see this; it won't kill us for once."

CHAPTER XVII.

ROBECCAL'S IDEA.

The frequenters of the theatres and circuses of the present day would consider this establishment of Gudel's very modest, with its single gallery, a little red serge, and its shabby velvet curtain. There was an orchestra, but what an orchestra! All the actors when not occupied on the stage a.s.sisted 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 Irene de Salves entered. Erect and haughty, she moved through the crowd, with the slightest possible inclination of the head in apology for disturbing them.

A word here in regard to this young lady. She was looked upon as a very eccentric person. Her father had followed Bonaparte's fortunes, and had fallen in Russia, leaving his widow sole guardian of this girl, then only four years of age.

The Countess, broken-hearted at her loss, shut herself up in the chateau, and devoted herself to her daughter. Irene seemed to have inherited her father's adventurous spirit, and her mother encouraged rather than restrained it, so great was her joy in the resemblance. She had his exuberant vitality, his contempt for danger, and his pride of race. Irene, possessing an enormous fortune and accustomed to the indulgence of every caprice, soon began to look upon herself as of superior clay to these peasants who doffed their hats to her as she pa.s.sed. She believed in the great power of money, and the Countess encouraged this belief. But illness came, and the Countess was confined to her sofa by paralysis. She lived now only for her daughter, and it was the one bright spot in her day when Irene rushed in, bringing with her fresh air and the sweet scents of the woods.

The child had become a woman, a woman full of contradictions. She was by turns charitable or pitiless, benevolent or disdainful. Sometimes, gay as a child, she rode all over the country--other days she hid herself in the woods or climbed to some inaccessible height, and there, with ardent eyes, indifferent to the wind that tossed her dark hair, she dreamed those dreams in which girls delight. She had moods of motiveless irritation, and of unreasonable indulgence. One day a village boy threw a stone at her horse. She pursued him with uplifted whip. Suddenly he turned, and folding his arms, defied her. She laughed aloud, and tossed him her purse.

Another time she was told that a fire had destroyed a village. She hardly seemed to hear. It was winter. In the middle of the night she arose and saddled her horse with her own hands, and rode off to the sufferers, working over them for hours.

She was not liked--none could tell why. Suddenly she learned, after a visit made by the Notary to her sick mother, that she was to marry the Vicomte Talizac. She cared nothing about it one way or the other. If her mother's heart was set upon it she was perfectly willing. The only thing she disliked in the plan was that she must leave her beautiful mountains. She had never been attracted by Paris, the streets and the people frightened her, but she was consoled by the thought that it would be a new world to conquer. On her return to the chateau, the daring words uttered by Fanfar dwelt in her memory: "Make yourself beloved."

She had entered the booth where the exhibition had taken place, in a moment of idle curiosity, and was surprised at the impression made on her by the place and the people. She was greatly irritated withal. This mountebank, this rope-dancer, had taken a great deal upon himself, certainly. Why had she not answered him as he deserved? What did he mean--"Make yourself beloved"--as if she were not already beloved! She remembered the eyes which the peasants riveted on her. Could it be that they did not love her? And now she was seated on a wooden bench, Madame Ursula, who had at last arrived, on one side, and on the other a pretty but dirty child, who was playing with the fringe of her dress.

Meanwhile the entertainment was going on. Gudel gave more than he promised in his handbill. Before the curtain went up, he called together the members of his troupe, and encouraged them to do their best. La Roulante went up to him, and to his great amazement said a few conciliatory words. As Gudel was by no means ill-natured, he shook hands with her. The giantess turned her face toward Robeccal and winked at him.

Poor Gudel was very happy in this reconciliation. After all, things would go smoothly if he once got rid of Robeccal. Then Caillette kissed him, in her lace and spangles. Light as a bird, she skipped up to him and whispered in his ear:

"Am I not lovely to-night, papa?"

"Adorable!" he answered. He did not know that his darling was comparing herself with Irene.

Fanfar had his hands full, and seemed so little interested in the audience that Caillette was enchanted, for in her heart lurked a fear that some one would love her Fanfar. But after all it did not matter, for he cared little for all the beauties in the world. He handed La Roulante the stones which were to form her apparent nutriment. He whispered a new witticism to Bob.i.+.c.hel, and gave Robeccal some advice as to the manner in which he should hold his sword. Then he took a position where he could see without being seen.

"Now, Fanfar," said Iron Jaws, "it is your turn! Look out for Caillette!"

The girl was to execute a new step on the tight-rope, and when she appeared, led forward by Fanfar, and made the three deep "reverences,"

there was a hum of admiration. She was charming--her delicacy was fairy-like. She lightly placed her foot on Fanfar's hand and sprang upon the rope. Standing there, she looked at Irene, who was leaning back with an air of indifference.

Fanfar now took up a violin, and raising the instrument to his shoulder, he began. He played at first very slowly. Caillette, with her arms folded--she had long before renounced the balancing pole--advanced up the rope. She knelt, and remained absolutely motionless. Then there came a peremptory summons from the violin. She arose and extended her arms above her head, and began to dance. Fanfar was an artist, his playing was wonderful. The music became faster and faster, and Caillette's little feet seemed hardly to touch the rope, they twinkled like stars, while Fanfar's bow looked only like a silver thread. He dropped the violin, and Caillette leaped into his arms. As she touched the ground, she threw at Irene a glance of laughing triumph.

Then came Robeccal's turn. He was a horrible object when he swallowed the swords. It was not admiration, it was horror, that he inspired. He seemed to enjoy this, and had imitated drops of blood on the sabres that he put down his throat. A few delicate persons shouted "Enough!" and Gudel appeared, not as Gudel, be it understood, but as Iron Jaws, the athlete. His enormous shoulders, his bull neck, contrasted with Fanfar's delicate form. Gudel tossed heavy weights and bent iron bars, and did all sorts of wonderful things. No one noticed the agility with which Fanfar, in his subordinate _role_, pa.s.sed these weights to his employer.

And now, the princ.i.p.al feat was to be performed. Fanfar rolled a barrel upon the stage, on which already stood a curious apparatus of bars and chains. Over this was a platform. The barrel was placed under this platform, and filled with stones. A rim was fitted to this barrel, and it was hoisted a little distance from the ground by a chain. It was this enormous weight that Gudel was to lift with his teeth.

Iron Jaws placed himself on this platform.

Fanfar blew a blast from his trumpet, and Iron Jaws grasped the chain in his teeth. The barrel moved up and up. The crowd was absolutely silent, this excess of strength inspired them with terror. Suddenly, a strange sound was heard.

What was it? No one knew. No one had time to see. Gudel lay insensible on the ground. And Fanfar had caught this barrel in his iron arms. Had it absolutely fallen, for the chain had broken, nothing could have saved Gudel. As it was, the shock deprived him of consciousness. Fanfar himself could hardly stand.

Caillette and Bob.i.+.c.hel ran to Gudel. La Roulante knelt at his side, and uttered shriek after shriek. Robeccal did not appear.

The peasants gathered around the injured man. They thought him dead.

Fanfar drew Caillette away, and then leaned over his friend.

La Roulante pushed him aside.

"Don't interfere," she said, "he is my husband."

Fanfar looked her in the face, and continued his examination. He opened Gudel's vest and s.h.i.+rt, and laid his hand on his heart. There was a moment of silence.

"He is living," said Fanfar.