is a right royal price." And the rustic opened his eyes widely.
"Just, so; the king wants the creature."
"You are not the king."
"But I represent him, and he is in a hurry."
"I must not wake her."
"Then I shall!" and he swung up a cane with a gold head in his herculean fist.
But he lowered it without hitting, for at the same instant he caught sight of a carriage tearing up the slope behind three fagged horses. The skilled eye of the would-be buyer recognized the vehicle, for he rushed toward it with a speed the Arabian might have envied.
It was the post carriage of Gilbert's guardian angel, which the postboy was enchanted to stop, on seeing the man wave him to do so, for he knew the nags would never reach the post house.
"Chon, my dear Chon," said the stranger. "What joy that you turn up, at last!"
"It is I, Jean," replied the lady to whom was given this odd name; "what are you doing here?"
"A pretty question, by Jove! I was waiting for you."
The Hercules stepped on the folding-step, and kissed the lady through the window. Suddenly he caught sight of Gilbert, and turned as black as a dog from which is snatched a bone, from not knowing the terms between the pair in the berlin.
"It is a most amusing little philosopher whom I picked up," returned Chon, caring little whether she wounded the pet's feelings or not, "on the road—but never mind him."
"Another matter indeed worries us. What about the old Countess of Bearn?" asked Jean.
"I have done the job, and she will come. I said I was her lawyer's daughter, Mademoiselle Flageot, and that, passing through Verdun, I repeated from my father that her case was coming on. I added that she must appear in person, whereupon she opened her gray eyes, took a pinch of snuff, and saying Lawyer Flageot was the first of business men, she gave orders for her departure."
"Splendid, Chon! I appoint you my ambassador extraordinary. Come and have breakfast!"
"Only too glad, for this poor boy is dying of hunger. But we must make haste, for the dauphiness is only three leagues off."
"Plague! that changes the tune. Go on to the posting house, with me hanging on as I am."
In five minutes the coach was at the inn door, where Chon ordered cutlets, fowl, wine and eggs, as they had to be off forthwith.
"Excuse me, lady, but it will have to be with your own horses, for all mine are out. If you find one at the manger, I will eat it."
"You ought to have some, for the regulations require it. Let me tell you," thundered Jean with a hectoring air, "I am not the man to jest."
"If I had fifty in the stable it would be the same as none, for they are all held on the dauphiness' service."
"Fifty, and you would not let us have three?" said Jean; "I do not ask for eight, to which number royal highnesses are entitled, but three."
"You shall not have one," returned the post master, springing in between the stables and the obstinate gentleman.
"Blunderhead, do you know who I am?" cried the other, pale with rage.
"Viscount," interposed Chon, "in heaven's name, no disorder."
"You are right, my dear; no more words; only deeds." He turned to the innkeeper, saying, "I shall shield you from responsibility by taking three horses myself."
"It must not be done, I tell 'ee."
"Do not help him harness," said the posting house keeper to the grooms.
"Jean," said Chon, "don't get into a scrape. On an errand one must put up with anything."
"Except delay," replied Viscount Jean with the utmost ease.
And he began taking down three sets of harness, which he threw on three horses' backs.
"Mind, master," said the post master, as he followed Jean, leading the horses out to the coach, "this is high treason."
"I am not stealing the royal horses but taking them on loan."
The innkeeper rushed at the reins but the strong man sent him spinning.
"Brother, oh, brother!" screamed Chon.
"Only her brother!" muttered Gilbert.
Chapter XV.
Taverney To The Rescue.
At this period a window in the cottage opened and a lovely woman's face appeared, above the Arabian courser, the uproar having aroused her.
"The very person wanted," cried Jean. "Fair lady, I offer you five hundred pistoles for your horse."
"My horse?" questioned the lady in bad French.
"Yes, the barb hitched there."
"Not for sale," and the lady slammed the window.
"Come, come, I am not in luck this day," said Jean, "for folk will neither sell nor hire. Confound it all! I shall take the Arab, if not for sale, and the coach horses if not for hire, and run them to their last legs. Put the horses to," he concluded to the lady traveler's lackey, who was on the coach.
"Help me, boys?" shouted the post master to his hostlers.
"Oh, don't," cried Chon to her brother; "you will only be massacred."
"Massacred, with three to three? for I count on your philosopher," said Jean, shouting to Gilbert, who was stupefied. "Get out and pitch in with a cane, or a rock, or the fist. And don't look like a plaster image!"
Here the burlesque battle began, with the horses pulled between Jean and their owner. The stronger man hurled the latter into the duckpond, where he floundered among the frightened ducks and geese.
"Help! murder!" he shrieked, while the viscount hastened to get the fresh horses into the traces.
"Help, in the king's name!" yelled the innkeeper, rallying his two grooms.
"Who claims help in the royal name?" challenged a horseman who suddenly galloped into the inn yard and pulled up his reeking steed amid the fighting party.
"Lieutenant Philip de Taverney!" exclaimed Gilbert, sinking back deeper than ever in the carriage corner.
Chon, who let nothing slip her, caught this name.
The young officer of the dauphin's dragoon guards leaped off his horse amid the scene, which was attracting all the villagers. The innkeeper ran up to him imploringly as the saver.
"Officer, this gentleman is trying to take away the horses kept for her Royal Highness," he faltered.
"Gentleman?" queried Philip.
"Yes, this gentleman;" retorted Jean.
"You mistake, you are mad—or no gentleman," replied the Chevalier of Redcastle.
"My dear lieutenant, you are wrong on both points," said the viscount; "I have my senses, and I am entitled to ride in the royal carriages."
"How dare you, then, lay hands on the horses for the royal princess?"
"Because there are fifty here and the Royals are entitled to but eight. Am I to go afoot when lackeys have four nags to draw them?"
"If it is the order of his Majesty, they may have what they like. So be good enough to make your fellow take back those horses."
"Yes, if you are on duty to guard them, lieutenant," replied Jean; "but I did not know that the dauphiness' dragoons were set to guard grooms. Better shut your eyes, tell your squad to do the same, and I wish you a pleasant journey!"
"You