"We hunted to hounds. They're finely equipped, word of honor! Can I breakfast here this morning?"
"Why not?"
"Then serve me a chicken, a bottle of Bordeaux, two cutlets, fruit--any trifle will go."
"At once. Shall it be served in your room, or in the common room?"
"In the common room, it's more amusing; only give me a table to myself.
Don't forget my horse. He is a fine beast, and I love him better than I do certain Christians, word of honor!"
The landlord gave his orders. Montbar stood before the fire, his coat-tails drawn aside, warming his calves.
"So you still keep to the posting business?" he said to the landlord, as if desirous of keeping up the conversation.
"I should think so!"
"Then you relay the diligences?"
"Not the diligences, but the mail-coaches."
"Ah! tell me--I want to go to Chambery some of these days--how many places are there in the mail-coach?"
"Three; two inside, and one out with the courier."
"Do I stand any chance of finding a vacant seat?"
"It may happen; but the safest way is to hire your own conveyance."
"Can't I engage a place beforehand?"
"No; for don't you see, Monsieur de Jayat, that if travellers take places from Paris to Lyons, they have the first right."
"See, the aristocrats!" said Montbar, laughing. "Apropos of aristocrats, there is one behind me posting here. I passed him about a mile the other side of Polliat. I thought his hack a little wind-broken."
"Oh!" exclaimed the landlord, "that's not astonishing; my brothers in the business have a poor lot of horses."
"Why, there's our man!" continued Montbar; "I thought I had more of a lead of him."
Roland was, in fact, just passing the windows at a gallop.
"Do you still want chamber No. 1, Monsieur de Jayat?" asked the landlord.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because it is the best one, and if you don't take it, I shall give it to that man, provided he wants to make any stay."
"Oh! don't bother about me; I shan't know till later in the day whether I go or stay. If the new-comer means to remain give him No. l. I will content myself with No. 2."
"The gentleman is served," said the waiter, looking through the door which led from the kitchen to the common room.
Montbar nodded and accepted the invitation. He entered the common room just as Roland came into the kitchen. The dinner was on the table.
Montbar changed his plate and sat down with his back to the door.
The precaution was useless. Roland did not enter the common room, and Montbar breakfasted without interruption. When dessert was over, however, the host himself brought in his coffee. Montbar understood that the good man was in talkative humor; a fortunate circumstance, for there were certain things he was anxious to hear about.
"Well," said Montbar, "what became of our man? Did he only change horses?"
"No, no, no," said the landlord; "as you said, he's an aristocrat. He ordered breakfast in his own room."
"His room or my room?" asked Montbar; "for I'm certain you put him in that famous No. 1."
"Confound it! Monsieur de Jayat, it's your own fault. You told me I could do as I liked."
"And you took me at my word; that was right. I shall be satisfied with No. 2."
"You'll be very uncomfortable. It's only separated from No. 1 by a partition, and you can hear everything that happens from one room to the other."
"Nonsense, my dear man, do you think I've come here to do improper things, or sing seditious songs, that you are afraid the stranger should hear or see what I do?"
"Oh! that's not it."
"What is it then?"
"I'm not afraid you'll disturb others. I'm afraid they'll disturb you."
"So your new guest is a roisterer?"
"No; he looks to me like an officer."
"What makes you think so?"
"His manner, in the first place. Then he inquired what regiment was in garrison at Macon; and when I told him it was the 7th mounted Chasseurs, he said: 'Good! the colonel is a friend of mine. Can a waiter take him my card and ask him to breakfast with me?'"
"Ah, ha!"
"So you see how it is. When officers get together they make so much racket and noise. Perhaps they'll not only breakfast, but dine and sup together."
"I've told you already, my good man, that I am not sure of passing the night here. I am expecting letters from Paris, _paste restante_, which will decide me. In the meantime, light a fire in No. 2, and make as little noise as possible, to avoid annoying my neighbors. And, at the same time, send me up pen and ink, and some paper. I have letters to write."
Montbar's orders were promptly executed, and he himself followed the waiter to see that Roland was not disturbed by his proximity.
The chamber was just what the landlord had said. Not a movement could be made, not a word uttered in the next room, that was not heard.
Consequently Montbar distinctly heard the waiter announce Colonel Saint-Maurice, then the resounding steps of the latter in the corridor, and the exclamations of the two friends, delighted to meet again.
On the other hand, Roland, who had been for a moment disturbed by the noise in the adjoining room, forgot it as soon as it had ceased, and there was no danger of its being renewed. Montbar, left alone, seated himself at the table, on which were paper, pen and ink, and remained perfectly motionless.
The two officers had known each other in Italy, where Roland was under the command of Saint-Maurice, the latter being then a captain and Roland a lieutenant. At present their rank was equal, but Roland had beside a double commission from the First Consul and the minister of police, which placed all officers of his own rank under his command, and even, within the limits of his mission, those of a higher rank.
Morgan had not been mistaken in supposing that Amelie's brother was in pursuit of the Companions of Jehu. If Roland's nocturnal search at the Chartreuse of Seillon was not convincing, the conversation between the young officer and his colleague was proof positive. In it, it developed that the First Consul was really sending fifty thousand francs as a gift to the monks of Saint-Bernard, by post; but that this money was in reality a trap devised for the capture of the Companions of Jehu, if all means failed to surprise them in the Chartreuse of Seillon or some other refuge.