ADVENTURES OF A PILGRIM (CONTINUED)
The farmer’s cart nears the gate. The moon-faced Reuben is as impassive as ever. Though the tall assistant manages to keep his expression fairly immobile too, ’tis evident to us who know him that he labors under suppressed excitement. For the prize of his Great Quest is Henriette; the penalty of discovery and capture, Death!
The gallant young man does not hesitate, however. He has never shrunk from Danger’s bright face, least of all would he shrink now when the passing of a brief ordeal may well mean reunion with his beloved and her rescue from the welter of Paris. The Pilgrim’s soul hungers and thirsts for her. After the great Sahara of imprisoned loneliness, how near the Oasis of love and rapture! How beautiful the prospect, if not indeed Mirage!
The rustic’s helper dismounts with the farmer at the gate, and follows him into the office of the registrar. The farmer presents a pass.
“This is for one only,” says the registrar at the gate, roughly. “The other cannot go through,” he says, pointing to de Vaudrey, who tries to look as stupid and uncomprehending as possible.
The farmer hands a big red apple to the functionary. But the latter makes a gesture of refusal.
“Bite into it!” says the Rustic ingratiatingly.
The official bites at the top which comes off––a smooth and even slice. The centre of the apple is hollow. Within it are several gold coins.
Quickly the gatekeeper covers the golden apple with his hairy paw. “Your papers are all right,” he says gruffly, rapidly converting the figure 1 into a 2, and viseing the pass for two. He motions for both the man and the youth to go through.