"Take your places gentlemen," shouted the conductor, opening the door.
"Take your places! We are three-quarters of an hour late."
"One moment, conductor, one moment," Said the architect; "we are consulting."
"About what?"
"Close the door, conductor, and come over here."
"Drink a glass of wine with us, conductor."
"With pleasure, gentlemen; a glass of wine is never to be refused."
The conductor held out his glass, and the three travellers touched it; but just as he was lifting it to his lips the doctor stopped his arm.
"Come, conductor, frankly, is it true?"
"What?"
"What this gentleman says?" And he pointed to the Genevese.
"Monsieur Feraud?"
"I don't know if that is his name."
"Yes, sir, that is my name--Feraud & Company, No. 6 Rue du Rempart, Geneva, at your service," replied the watchmaker, bowing.
"Gentlemen," repeated the conductor, "take your places!"
"But you haven't answered."
"What the devil shall I answer? You haven't asked me anything."
"Yes, we asked you if it is true that you are carrying a large sum of money belonging to the French Government?"
"Blabber!" said the conductor to watchmaker, "did you tell that?"
"Confound it, my worthy fellow--"
"Come, gentlemen, your places."
"But before getting in we want to know--"
"What? Whether I have government money? Yes I have. Now, if we are stopped, say nothing and all will be well."
"Are you sure?"
"Leave me to arrange matters with these gentry."
"What will you do if we are stopped?" the doctor asked the architect.
"Faith! I shall follow the conductor's advice."
"That's the best thing to do," observed the latter.
"Well, I shall keep quiet," repeated the architect.
"And so shall I," added the watchmaker.
"Come, gentlemen, take your seats, and let us make haste."
The boy had listened to this conversation with frowning brow and clinched teeth.
"Well," he said to his mother, "if we are stopped, I know what I'll do."
"What will you do?" she asked.
"You'll see."
"What does this little boy say?" asked the watchmaker.
"I say you are all cowards," replied the child unhesitatingly.
"Edouard!" exclaimed his mother, "what do you mean?"
"I wish they'd stop the diligence, that I do!" cried the boy, his eye sparkling with determination.
"Come, come, gentlemen, in Heaven's name, take your places," called the conductor once more.
"Conductor," said the doctor, "I presume you have no weapons!"
"Yes, I have my pistols."
"Unfortunate!"
The conductor stooped to the doctor's ear and whispered: "Don't be alarmed, doctor; they're only loaded with powder."
"Good!"
"Forward, postilion, forward!" shouted the conductor, closing the door of the interior. Then, while the postilion snapped his whip and started the heavy vehicle, he also closed that of the coupe.
"Are you not coming with us, conductor?" asked the lady.
"Thank you, no, Madame de Montrevel," replied the conductor; "I have something to do on the imperial." Then, looking into the window, he added: "Take care the Monsieur Edouard does not touch the pistols in the pocket of the carriage; he might hurt himself."
"Pooh!" retorted the boy, "as if I didn't know how to handle a pistol. I have handsomer ones than yours, that my friend Sir John had sent me from England; haven't I, mamma?"
"Never mind, Edouard," replied Madame de Montrevel, "I entreat you not to touch them."