Part 27 (1/2)

”Will you repeat that,” he said at length, ”and slowly?”

O'Toole repeated his remark, and the courier nodded at him. ”That's very strange,” said he, solemnly, wagging his head. ”I do not dispute its truth, but it is most strange. I will tell my wife of it.” He turned in his chair, and a twinge from his bruises made him cry out. ”I shall be as stiff as a mummy in the morning,” he exclaimed, and swore loudly at ”the bandits” who had caused him this deplorable journey. Misset and O'Toole exchanged a quick glance, and Misset pushed the gla.s.s across the table. The courier took it, and his eyes lighted up.

”You have come from Trent,” said he. ”Did you pa.s.s a travelling carriage on the road?”

”Yes,” said Misset; ”the Prince of Baden with a large following drove into Trent as we came out.”

”Yes, yes,” said the courier. ”But no second party behind the Prince?”

Misset shook his head; he made a pretence of consulting O'Toole in French, and O'Toole shook his head.

”Then I shall have the robbers,” cried the courier. ”They are to be flayed alive, and they deserve it,” he shouted fiercely to Misset. ”Gallows-birds!”

He dropped his head upon his arms and muttered ”gallows-birds” again. It seemed that he was falling asleep, but he suddenly sat up and beat on the table with his fist.

”I have eaten nothing since the morning. Ah-gallows- birds-flayed alive, and hanged-no, hanged and flayed alive-no, that's impossible.” He drank off the wine which Misset had poured out for him, and rose from his chair. ”Where's the landlord? I want supper. I want besides to speak to him;” and he staggered towards the door.

”As for supper,” said Misset, ”we shall be glad if you will share ours. Travellers should be friendly.”

O'Toole caught the courier by the arm and with a polite speech in French drew him again down into his chair. The courier stared at O'Toole and forgot all about the landlord. He had eaten nothing all day, and the wine and the water-jug had gone to his head. He put a long forefinger on O'Toole's knee.

”Say that again,” said he, and O'Toole obeyed. A slow, fat smile spread all over the courier's face.

”I'll tell my wife about it,” said he. He tried to clap O'Toole on the back, and missing him fell forward with his face on the table. The next minute he was snoring. Misset walked round the table and deftly picked his pockets. There was a package in one of them superscribed to ”Prince Taxis, the Governor of Trent.” Misset deliberately broke the seal and read the contents. He handed the package to O'Toole, who read it, and then flinging it upon the ground danced upon it. Misset went out of the room and found Wogan and Gaydon keeping watch by Clementina's door. To them he spoke in a whisper.

”The fellow brings letters from General Heister to the Governor of Trent to stop us at all costs. But his letters are destroyed, and he's lying dead-drunk on the table.”

The three men quickly concerted a plan. The Princess must be roused; a start must be made at once; and O'Toole must be left behind to keep a watch upon the courier, Wogan rapped at the door and waked Clementina; he sent Gaydon to the stables to bribe the ostlers, and with Misset went down to inform O'Toole.

O'Toole, however, was sitting with his eyes closed and his head nodding, surrounded by sc.r.a.ps of the letter which he had danced to pieces. Wogan shook him by the shoulder, and he opened his eyes and smiled fatuously.

”He means to tell his wife,” he said with a foolish gurgle of laughter. ”He must be an a.s.s. I don't think if I had a wife I should tell her. Would you, Wogan, tell your wife if you had one? Misset wouldn't tell his wife.”

Misset interrupted him.

”What have you drank since I went out of the room?” he asked roughly. He took up the water-jug and turned it topsy-turvy. It was quite empty.

”Only water,” said O'Toole, dreamily, and he laughed again. ”Now I wouldn't mind telling my wife that,” said he.

Misset let him go and turned with a gesture of despair to Wogan.

”I poured my flask out into the water-bottle. It was full of burnt Strasbourg brandy, of double strength. It is as potent as opium. Neither of them will have his wits before to-morrow. It will not help us to leave O'Toole to guard the courier.”

”And we cannot take him,” said Wogan. ”There is the Princess to be thought of. We must leave him, and we cannot leave him alone, for his neck's in danger,-more than in danger if the courier wakes before him.”

He picked up carefully the sc.r.a.ps of the letter and placed them in the middle of the fire. They were hardly burnt before Gaydon came into the room with word that horses were already being harnessed to the berlin. Wogan explained their predicament.

”We must choose which of us three shall stay behind,” said he.