For, as Pierre afterwards confessed, he had heard the plans made as he stood, on their first coming, in the stable, and then and there determined to possess himself of the valuable specimens the English party and their guide might find. In spite of his vacant look, he was possessed of plenty of low cunning, and he at once secured the dog-like services of the cretin, who had been his companion in the mountains for years, and obeyed him with the dumb fidelity of a slave.
The task was comparatively easy, for their knowledge of the mountains in that wild neighbourhood was far greater than Melchior’s. The cretin’s strength and activity were prodigious, and he readily learned his lesson from his master, with the result that has been seen.
Chapter Forty Two.
Clear as Crystal.
Pierre had received so severe a blow from Melchior’s axe handle that he was stunned, and when he came to he was so cowed and beaten that he went down on his knees, owned to everything, and begged for mercy, with the result that the miserable inhuman deformity grasped the position, and, uttering piteous whines and howls, seemed to be imploring mercy, too.
“Look here, Pierre,” said Melchior: “I have but to send down to the village to get a messenger to take a letter to the town, and the police will fetch you to prison.”
“No, no,” pleaded the culprit, and he implored for mercy again in the most abject terms.
“A year in prison would do him good, herr,” said Melchior. “He is no Switzer, but a disgrace to his country. We Swiss are honest, honourable men, and he is a thief.”