“Faith,” said Puffo, “thanks to a servant who is in love with a little girl at the farm, and who invited me to eat at his table, I had some very decent brandy. It was corn brandy, rather rough, but it’s warming, and I slept capitally after it.”
“I am delighted at your windfall, Master Puffo; but we must go to work. Come, go at once and see that Jean has plenty to eat and drink, and then come back and receive your instructions. Hurry!”
Puffo went out, and Christian, not without a sigh, closed his box of minerals, and was opening that which contained the burattini, when the noise of sleigh-bells drew him to the window. It was not the doctor of laws returning so soon; it was the pretty blue and silver sleigh which had brought Margaret to Stollborg the evening before.
Must we confess it? Christian had forgotten the promise which that agreeable young lady had made to the apocryphal M. Goefle of repeating her visit next day. The truth is, that he had no longer considered this visit possible, on account of what had happened at the ball, and had consequently said nothing about it to M. Goefle. Perhaps he regarded the whole adventure as inevitably ended, and perhaps he even wished to have it so; for to what could it lead, unless he should attempt to abuse the inexperience of a child, and so secure her contempt and her curse?
In the meanwhile, the sleigh was approaching; it was now ascending the hill of Stollborg, and Christian could see the pretty head of the young countess, half hidden in her ermine hood. What was to be done? Would he be courageous enough to shut the door in her face, or to send her word by Puffo that the doctor was absent? Pshaw! Ulph would tell her so of his own accord! He had only to keep quiet, and the sleigh would return as it had come. Christian remained at the window, so as to watch it descend the hill, but it did not descend. The door opened, Margaret entered, and the young man had barely time to close hastily the open box where the marionettes were indiscreetly exhibiting their great noses and smiling mouths.
“What, monsieur!” cried the young girl, with an exclamation of surprise, “are you still here? I did not expect that. I hoped that you would be gone.”
“Did you meet no one in the court?” said Christian, who was, perhaps, not sorry to throw the blame of this circumstance upon destiny.
“I saw no one,” said Margaret; “and, as my visit is secret, I came in very quickly, so that no one should see me. But, once more, Monsieur Goefle, you ought not to be here. The baron must know, by this time, who it was who ventured to defy him. I give you my word that you ought to go away.”
“Go away! You say that very cruelly. But you remind me that I really have gone away already. Yes, yes, be satisfied; I have gone never to return. M. Goefle has intimated to me that he might be involved in my difficulties, and I have promised him to disappear. You find me in the very act of packing up.”
“Oh! Go on, then; do not let me detain you.”