"I agree with you," said Frederic. "What's the use of saying anything about it to my father? He left me free to go wherever I please, and asked Monsieur Menard to go with me as a friend, not as a mentor.

Surely, my father would be exceedingly pleased to know that I am travelling with monsieur le baron; but in his delight at learning that I am in such company, he would undoubtedly betray your incognito, and you would be obliged to leave us."

"Yes, I understand," said Menard; "and yet--if----"

Dubourg, seeing that the tutor still retained some scruples, made haste to produce his horn snuff-box, which he offered to Frederic, looking at him with a meaning expression.

"Do you recognize this, my dear Frederic? it's the one I showed you at Paris."

"Yes, I recognize it perfectly," said Frederic, with no idea of Dubourg's purpose; while Monsieur Menard glanced at the snuff-box and waited impatiently for the baron to explain himself.

"Ah! it's a very precious object in my eyes!" said Dubourg, taking a pinch of snuff. "You have no suspicion, Monsieur Menard, to whom this modest snuff-box belonged?"

"No, monsieur le baron."

"Modest as it is, I would not exchange it for one of solid gold. It was the King of Prussia's snuff-box, Monsieur Menard."

"The King of Prussia's?"

"Yes, monsieur; the great Frederick, who, as you know, was very fond of snuff and often carried it in his pocket; still, he had snuff-boxes, which were always very simple, like everything he carried. He himself gave this one to my father, from whom I had it."

"Ah! monsieur le baron, if I might dare to crave the honor----"

And Menard respectfully put out two fingers to take a pinch of snuff from the Prussian king's snuff-box, which Dubourg smilingly offered him.

Menard took a pinch with becoming humility. He stuffed his nose full of snuff which he considered delicious, and, when he sneezed, the poor man fancied that he bore some slight resemblance to the King of Prussia. He had lost his head completely; the fumes of grandeur mingled with those of the snuff, and at the third sneeze he cried, saluting Baron Potoski with renewed deference:

"It certainly is not necessary to write to monsieur le comte."

V

A VILLAGE INN, AND WHAT BEFELL OUR TRAVELLERS THERE

At nightfall, our travellers arrived at a village of wretched aspect.

Dubourg ordered his postilion to set them down at the best inn; but as there was only one in the place, they must needs content themselves with that.

The inn in question was rarely patronized by travellers in carriages; pedestrians were its usual guests.

Frederic was disinclined to stop in that wretched hamlet, but Dubourg insisted upon pa.s.sing the night there. He had reasons of his own for not wishing to go farther with his berlin; and as Monsieur Menard was hungry, and the remains of his pate had been left in the post chaise, he endorsed Dubourg's suggestion.

The carriage drove into a great yard filled with mud and dungheaps. Half a score of ducks were splashing in a pool, apparently disputing possession of it with some geese which waddled majestically around the banks. Three pigs went grunting into every corner of the enclosure, an old lame horse was quenching his thirst at a trough, on the edge of which perched several hens, which laid their eggs in the house, in the street, or in the yard, as it happened, considering probably that there was little to choose between those places. Lastly, to complete the picture, a number of rabbits showed their heads from time to time under the hedge of a garden which had been turned into a warren; then fled in alarm at the barking of a huge dog, whose duty it seemed to be to watch the other beasts.

There was hardly room for the berlin to pa.s.s through a gateway, whose dilapidated gate had not been closed for a long while. On one side the wheels sank into a deep rut, on the other they had to pa.s.s over a dungheap; so that, for a moment, Monsieur Menard feared that the Palatine of Rava's venerable berlin would be overturned, and himself with it. But he got off with nothing worse than a fright. On the arrival of the carriage, the rabbits and pigs fled, the ducks quacked, the geese and hens flew away, and the dog barked under the travellers' noses; while a dozen or more of idlers, and as many peasant women, who formed substantially the whole population of the village, stood about the gateway to see the occupants of the carriage alight.

"Where in the devil is he taking us?" said Frederic, putting his head out of the window, and instantly drawing it in again; for the wheels had stirred up the filth which covered the ground and thereby caused it to emit an odor ill adapted to attract the travellers.

"Let us hope that we are not in front of the kitchen," said Monsieur Menard, holding his nose.

"Don't be alarmed, messieurs," said Dubourg; "we shall be very comfortable here; we must not judge by appearances, you know. I have stopped at this inn, and I remember that they give you excellent rabbit stews and omelets."

Although it might seem surprising that a palatine should be fond of such commonplace dishes, Monsieur Menard at once considered the yard less offensive; and, alighting on the heels of Dubourg, who had stepped out on the dungheap, he looked about on all sides, trying to discover the kitchen.

The innkeeper appeared, with his cap over his left ear; he did not salute the new arrivals, for, being accustomed to entertain only carters or peasants, who care little for polite manners, he had contracted a habit of treating all strangers with a certain familiarity; and the sight of a carriage made little impression on him, because it was not to such guests that he looked for the support of his establishment.

He was a little man of fifty years or thereabout, with a slight limp, and a bloated nose which seemed to denote intemperate habits.

"Are you going to drink a gla.s.s of wine, messieurs?" he said, addressing Menard, who still had his nose in the air, trying to catch the scent of a rabbit stew, and to whom the innkeeper's manner seemed lacking in respect.

"Take us to your best room, my good man," said Dubourg; "we are going to sup and sleep here. Set everyone at work; let the fire blaze and the spits turn, and serve our supper as soon as may be."

"Yes," interposed Menard, tapping the host's shoulder patronizingly; "and understand, my friend, that you have the honor of entertaining Monsieur le Comte Frederic de Montreville, Monsieur le Baron Ladislas Potoski, Palatine of Rava and Sandomir, and Monsieur Benoit Menard, master of arts and eminent professor."

"I shall never have room enough to put up so many people," said the innkeeper, while Dubourg reproved Menard for betraying his incognito and begged him to be more discreet in future.

"Hola! Goton! Goton!" cried mine host, walking toward the garden; "come and show these gentlemen into the house, while I look after the horses; and tell my wife to see about getting supper."

Mademoiselle Goton appeared; she was a tall, stoutly-built damsel of twenty, dark, with black eyes, and a sunburned complexion; her features were irregular, but her retrousse nose and her fine teeth, which she showed constantly, her mouth being rather large, made her face decidedly attractive. If, instead of a short stuff skirt, a waist of coa.r.s.e blue woollen cloth, and a cotton cap, Goton had worn a dress which set off her figure; if her skin had been treated with almond paste, and her hair by a hair-dresser, she would undoubtedly have made many conquests in Paris.

"Will you follow me, messieurs?" she said, smiling at the travellers; for Mademoiselle Goton smiled very often, because it added to her beauty; and in the smallest village, no less than in the largest city, a woman always knows how to make the most of her advantages. Lacking a mirror, a fountain is sufficient to train the simplest-minded.

Dubourg estimated the servant's qualities at a glance, and, as they followed her, he said to himself:

"I will amuse Menard with the supper, which shall be a good one, if I can manage it. I can pa.s.s the time pleasantly with Mademoiselle Goton.

Ah! if I only could find some sentimental beauty to engage Frederic's attention! Failing a new pa.s.sion, I will talk to him of Madame Dernange and all his faithless charmers in Paris; that will serve to make his evening pa.s.s quickly."

The best room in the inn was the one usually occupied by the carters and peasants. Four itinerant merchants, who had arrived an hour before our ill.u.s.trious travellers, were seated at a table, drinking, and discussing their business affairs.

The arrival of three new guests in no wise disturbed the four men. They glanced at them, and continued their conversation.

"I'll set plates for you here," said Goton, pointing to a table covered with a glazed cloth.

"No, no," said Dubourg; "we can't eat our supper here; you may serve us in one of the rooms where we are to sleep."

"But this is the eating-room."

"That may be," said Menard; "but monsieur le comte and monsieur le bar--at all events, we don't choose to eat here."

These words caused the peddlers to raise their heads, and they scrutinized the travellers, laughing contemptuously among themselves.

Menard, fearing that he had offended them, and dreading a scene, was already in the pa.s.sage, where he waited for the servant to come; while Dubourg, who was not long-suffering, eyed the four drinkers in his turn.

Frederic, his mind still engrossed by his memories, paid little heed to what was taking place.

"You see, Goton," said one of the four, with a sneering smile, "these gents are too swell to eat in the same room with us. _Jarni_! we must take care and not look at 'em too close; it might offend 'em."

"n.o.body spoke to you," said Dubourg; "try not to be too insolent, or you may be sorry for it."

"Oho! there's one of 'em who means to show his teeth!"