“Why all these precautions?” said Christian, coming from his retreat, where he had listened to this dialogue.
“Because something is going on here—I was about to tell you so when we were interrupted—that I do not understand. All day long, this Johan—the most detestable wretch alive, if I can judge from his appearance, and from Stenson’s opinion—has done nothing but prowl around Stollborg, and you are the object of his curiosity. In the first place he questioned Stenson about you, who does not know you at all, and who only learned to-day (precisely from this Johan) that you and I were both of us stopping here. Then he had a long talk in the stable with your servant Puffo, and another in the kitchen of the gaard, with Ulphilas. He would have made Nils talk if I had not kept him close by me the whole day. I really believe this spy tried to make your ass confess.”
“Luckily, my honest Jean is discretion itself,” said Christian. “But I do not see why the efforts of this lackey to see my face should make you uneasy. Since I have worn a mask, I have been accustomed to excite just such curiosity; but I intend to have done forever with this puerile mystery and with these childish persecutions. As I am obliged to return to the chateau this evening, I will go with my face uncovered.”
“No, Christian, you must not do that; I forbid it. You must be patient for a few days longer! An important secret is challenging our investigation; it is our business to discover it, and I will discover it, or lose my reputation; but you must not show your face. You must not even let Ulph see you again. You are certainly threatened by some danger. Johan, with his stealthy, sidelong glance, is not the only person I have seen gliding about the passages of Stollborg. Either I am very much mistaken, or I noticed a thorough blackguard walking around the donjon on the ice, at just about nightfall—a certain fellow who has been honored by the baron his master with the fantastic name of Captain Chimère. With our comedy last evening, we may have put fire to powder. The baron unquestionably is suspicious about you, for some cause or other; and if you will take my advice, you will pretend to be ill, and not go to the new chateau at all.”
“Oh, as to that, Monsieur Goefle, I beg your pardon, but the baron cannot frighten me, no matter what he may do. If I am so fortunate as not to be related to him, I am in precisely the mood to defy him, and to squeeze vigorously any hand that ventures so much as to touch the tapestry of my theatre, if I choose to remain incognito. Remember that I have killed two bears to-day, and consequently that my nerves are a little excited. Come, come, pardon me, my dear uncle, but it is getting late, and I have only two hours to prepare for my exhibition. I am going to look for a play in my library; that is to say, in the bottom of my box, and you must be so good as to play it with me, somehow or other.”
“Christian, I don’t feel like it to-day. I am no longer an actor, but a lawyer; that is to say, a seeker of actual facts, to the very marrow of the bones. Your servant Puffo did not seem to me to be very drunk when I saw him, and he is here, no doubt, in the gaard. Stay, I am going out, and I will call him as I pass, and send him to help you, since you insist upon performing. It will do no harm, perhaps—it will keep you busy, and may avert suspicions. Puffo is devoted to you, is he not?”
“I don’t know, I am sure.”
“But if they should try to fasten a quarrel upon you, he would not leave you in the lurch? He is not a coward?”
“I don’t think so: but feel no anxiety upon that point, Monsieur Goefle. This good Norwegian knife, which my friends lent me for the hunt, is still by my side, and I answer for it that I will make myself respected without the help of any one.”
“Beware of a surprise. That is the only thing I am afraid of for you. For my part, I cannot remain quiet for two minutes. Since you have told me about a child brought up secretly at the danneman’s house, a child with fingers like yours—”