The stranger carefully folded himself in his mantle, pulled the brim of his beaver over his eyes, and awaited the entrance of the newcomers, while affecting an air of indifference.
The waiting-men, who had sought shelter in the most remote corner of the room, were trembling in the prevision of a disturbance.
[CHAPTER II.]
A FAMILY SCENE.
In the meanwhile the new arrivals were making a great noise in the road, and seemed to be growing impatient at the delay in letting them into the hostelry.
Master Pivois at length decided to open to them, though he was suffering from a secret apprehension as to the consequences which the presence of a stranger in the house might have for him.
As soon as a stable-lad had by his orders, drawn back the bolts, and opened the carriage-gates, several horsemen entered the yard, accompanied by a coach drawn by four horses.
By the light of the lanthorn held by his lad the landlord perceived that the travellers were seven in number; three masters, three servants, and the coachman on the box. All were wrapped up in thick cloaks, and armed to the teeth.