"You seem to be a great physiognomist, mine host," responded the Englishman, with a sarcastic smile.

Then making a sign to his companion, he rose, remarking to the innkeeper as he did so:

"_Au revoir_, my friend. We are going to take a stroll around the town, and then return to Dieppe."

"If you would like to wait for the Paris diligence, it will pa.s.s through the town about eight o'clock this evening."

"Thanks, but though we are sailors, we are good walkers, and it is such a fine evening I think we won't wait for it."

CHAPTER VI.

A CUNNING SCHEME.

After leaving the inn, the two strangers took themselves off for a quarter of an hour to decide upon their plans, then strolled like a couple of inquisitive idlers toward the post-station in front of which the traveller's carriage stood, nearly ready for departure, as the postilion was already putting fresh horses to it.

Captain Russell and his companion approached the vehicle, and, seating themselves upon one of the benches in front of the post-house, pretended to be examining the animals that were being harnessed, with a knowing eye.

"You have a horse there that seems to be as willing as he is handsome,"

Russell remarked to the postilion, after a few minutes' scrutiny.

"And he is as good as he looks, my friend," replied the postilion, pleased by the well-deserved praise bestowed upon his steed, "so I call him the Friar, and he is worthy of his name."

"He's a fine animal, there's no doubt of that. What a broad chest he has, and what powerful withers and flanks!"

"And what a beautiful head he has!" chimed in Pietri. "It is as delicate and intelligent as that of any Arabian steed."

"It is evident that you are both good judges of horse flesh, gentlemen, so you won't doubt my word when I tell you that I can get over a mile or two of ground in the twinkling of an eye with the Friar and Sans-Culotte, as I call his mate."

"Yes, it must be a real pleasure to have a horse like that between one's legs, my worthy fellow. Though I'm a sailor, I've ridden horseback a good deal, but I never had the good fortune to bestride an animal like that."

"I can very readily believe that, monsieur; but this I know, you will never bestride a finer one."

"And it is too bad!"

"I don't see what you are going to do about it."

"Would you like to make forty francs, my friend?" inquired the Englishman, after a brief silence.

"Forty francs, I?" exclaimed the astonished postilion.

"Yes."

"But how the devil could I?"

"In the easiest way imaginable."

"Let me hear it."

Just as the Englishman was about to make known his proposition, a waiter from the inn crossed the street to tell the postilion that he need not be in a hurry, for the traveller would not be ready for some time.

"What is he doing? and why did he order his horses so long ahead, then?"

"I don't know anything about that, but I do know he's a queer one. What do you think he dined on? He drank milk instead of wine, and ate some poached eggs and panada."

"Panada? Well, he must be a queer one!" said Jean Pierre, scornfully.

Then turning to Russell, "Come, friend, what were you going to tell me a few minutes ago about--"

"Step into the stable-yard, my good fellow, I want to say a few words to you."

"I can't leave the Friar; he would be sure to cut up some caper. He's always fussing with Sans-Culotte. Whoa, you rascal! See, he's beginning his antics now. Whoa, there! if you break away, you brigand, I'll give you a beating you'll remember."

"Listen, then," said the Englishman, whispering a few words in the postilion's ear.

"What a funny idea!" exclaimed that young man, laughing.

"Will you accept my offer?"

"Really--"

"If you will, here are twenty francs. You shall have the rest when you get to the appointed place. After all, what risk do you run? There is no harm in it."

"None in the world, but it is such a funny idea. It isn't the first time I've heard of the like, though. What do you think I saw in Dieppe the other day? Those privateersmen--my! how they make their money fly!--did the queerest things! I saw some of them offer twenty-five napoleons to an old sacristan to dress himself up like a woman in a furbelowed dress and a plumed hat and then drive about the town in a cab with them."

"What else could you expect, my good fellow? Sailors are on sh.o.r.e too seldom not to amuse themselves according to their fancy, provided it doesn't injure anybody. You agree, don't you?"

"Oh, well, it isn't worth while to have any scruples when one has to deal with a pa.s.senger who eats panada and doesn't drink wine, I admit, so--"

"So here are twenty francs," added Russell, slipping a gold piece into the postilion's hand. "You shall have as much more presently."

"All right, but make haste, for the place is a good league from here.

Take the first road to the left."

A moment afterward the two strangers had disappeared.

About a quarter of an hour afterward, while the postilion was doing his best to restrain the gambols of the Friar and his mate, the proprietor of the Imperial Eagle appeared in the doorway and cried:

"Mount, my boy, mount! Here comes the gentleman!"

"The devil!" muttered Jean Pierre, climbing slowly into the saddle. "My milk-drinker is in a dreadful hurry all of a sudden. I sha'n't be able to get my horses there fast enough, now, I suppose."

As he spoke, he guided his horses up to the door of the inn, and the traveller stepped into the vehicle. The landlord bowed respectfully to his patron, and as he closed the carriage door called out to the postilion:

"Drive along, Jean Pierre, monsieur is in a hurry."