sidering the
company which frequented the house, the task was not easy. So she was
shocked at the young man's last words, and although she did not quite
understand his meaning, for that very reason she thought she scented a
concealed poison more dangerous for Mademoiselle Reine than the awful
words used by the drivers. She dared not, however, show her displeasure
to a customer, and one who seemed disposed to spend money freely; and, as
usual in such circumstances, she vented her displeasure upon the persons
immediately under her charge.

"Hurry now, Catherine! Will you never finish setting the table? I told
you before to put on the Britannia; these gentlemen are used to eating
with silver. Listen to me when I am talking to you. Who washed these
glasses? What a shame! You are as afraid of water as a mad-dog. And you!
what are you staring at that chicken for, instead of basting it? If you
let it burn you shall go to bed without any supper. If it is not
provoking!" she continued, in a scolding tone, visiting her stewpans one
after another, "everything is dried up; a fillet that was as tender as it
could be will be scorched! This is the third time that I have diluted the
gravy. Catherine! bring me a dish. Now, then, make haste."

"One thing is certain," interrupted the artist, "that Gerfaut is making a
fool of me. I do not see what can have become of him. Tell me, Madame
Gobillot, are you certain that an amateur of art and the picturesque,
travelling at this hour, would not be eaten by wolves or plundered by
robbers in these mountains?"

"Our mountains are safe, Monsieur," replied the landlady, with offended
dignity; "except for the pedler who was assassinated six months ago and
whose body was found in the Combe-aux-Renards--"

"And the driver who was stopped three weeks ago in the Fosse," added
Mademoiselle Reine; "the thieves did not quite kill him, but he is still
in the hospital at Remiremont."

"Oh! that is enough to make one's hair stand on end! This is worse than
the forest of Bondy! Truly, if I knew what direction my friend took this
morning, I would follow him with my pistols."

"Here is Fritz," said Madame Gobillot. "He met a stranger in the woods
who gave him ten sous for telling him the way to Bergenheim. From his
description, it seems that it must be the gentleman you speak of. Tell us
about it, Fritz."

The child related in his Alsatian patois his meeting of the afternoon,
and the artist was convinced