“Let us draw off a little distance,” replied Agricola.
“No,” said his father; “we must listen. It will be time to retire, if they open the door. Here, Spoil-sport! down!”
The dog obeyed, and withdrawing from the door, crouched down at the feet of his master. Some seconds after, they heard a sort of splashing on the damp ground, caused by heavy footsteps in puddles of water, and then the sound of words, which carried away by the wind, did not reach distinctly the ears of the soldier and the smith.
“They are the people of whom Mother Bunch told us, going their round,” said Agricola to his father.
“So much the better. There will be an interval before they come round again, and we shall have some two hours before us, without interruption. Our affair is all right now.”
By degrees, the sound of the footsteps became less and less distinct, and at last died away altogether.
“Now, quick! we must not lose any time,” said Dagobert to his son, after waiting about ten minutes; “they are far enough. Let us try to open the door.”
Agricola leaned his powerful shoulder against it, and pushed vigorously; but the door did not give way, notwithstanding its age.
“Confound it!” said Agricola; “there is a bar on the inside. I am sure of it, or these old planks would not have resisted my weight.”
