Jean Charost hesitated, and held back; but the other turned, after ascending the three steps which led to the door, and looked back, saying, "Come in--what are you afraid of?"
The least suspicion of fear has a great influence upon youth at all times, and Jean Charost was by no means without the failings of youth, although early misfortune and early experience had rendered him, as I have before said, older than his years.
"I am not afraid of any thing," he replied, following the stranger. "But this does not look like an inn."
"It is the back way," replied the other; "and you will soon find that it is the inn."
Thus saying, he walked through a narrow passage which soon led into a large court-yard, the man with the torch going before, and displaying by the light he carried a multitude of objects, which showed the young secretary that his companion had spoken nothing but the truth, and that they were, indeed, in the court-yard of one of those large and very handsome auberges--very different from the cabarets, the gites, and repues, all inns of different classes at that time in France.
Two or three times as they went, different men, some in the garb of the retainers of a noble house dressed in gaudy colors, some in the common habiliments of the attendants of an inn, came from different parts of the court toward the man who carried the torch; but as often, a slight movement of his hand caused them to fall back again from the path of those whom he was lighting.
Right in front was a great entrance door, and a large passage from which a blaze of light streamed forth, showing a great number of people coming and going within; but to the left was a flight of half a dozen stone steps leading to a smaller door, now closed. To it the torch-bearer advanced, opened it, and then drew back reverently to let those who followed pass in. A single man, with a cap and plume, appeared within, at a little distance on the left, who opened the door of a small room, into which the stranger entered, followed by his young companion. Jean Charost gave a rapid glance at the man who opened the door, whose dress was now as visible as it would have been in daylight, and perceived, embroidered in letters of gold upon his cap, just beneath the feather, the words "Ich houd." They puzzled him; for though he did not remember their meaning, he had some recollection of having heard that they formed the motto, or rallying words, of some great man or some great faction.
The stranger advanced quietly to a chair, seated himself, turned to the person at the door who had given him admittance, and merely pronounced the word "Supper."
"For how--" said the attendant, in an inquiring tone, and it is probable that he was about to add the word "many," with some title of reverence or respect, but the other stopped him at once, saying, "For two--speak with Monsieur D'Ipres, and take his orders. See that they be obeyed exactly."
Then turning to Jean Charost, he said, in a good-humored tone, "Sit, sit, my young friend. And now let me give you thanks. You rendered me a considerable service--not, perhaps, that it was as great as you imagine; for I should have got out somehow. These adventures always come to an end, and I have been in worse quagmires of various kinds than that; but you rendered me a considerable service, and, what is more to the purpose, you did it boldly, skillfully, and promptly. You pleased me, and during supper you shall tell me more about yourself. Perhaps I may serve you."