“Little father, they shall not do that. I will keep watch for you.”
“Good! Well, then, while I rest in your hut, do you from the shelter of the trees keep an eye upon the road near the eighth verst-post, and should anything suspicious occur come at once and rouse me. You shall have roubles for your trouble.”
“It is enough reward for me,” returned Ruric, “to know that I am serving a friend of the Lady Pauline.”
He led the way into his hut, which consisted of one room only, with furniture of a primitive type. Ruric lived all alone, it seemed, having neither wife nor child.
Left to himself Wilfrid sat down upon a wooden bench and soon dropped off into unconsciousness.
He was roused from sleep by the touch of a hand upon his shoulder. Lifting his head he was startled to see, standing around him, nine men. Their flat features and peculiar dress seemed to bespeak a Finnish origin, a remark not applicable to the one who acted as chief, for he was a man of handsome and aristocratic appearance, middle-aged, and wearing a costume that might have belonged to a French gentleman of the old régime.
“You are Lord Courtenay, I presume?” said this gentleman, bowing politely and speaking in French.
“That is a name I never deny.”
“I am Dr. Beauvais, physician at one time to his late majesty Louis XVI.”
“And why this visit? ‘They that be whole need not a physician—’ You know the rest.”