There was a little hesitation. The last arrivals noticed the man in the brown braided coat, and did not seem to like his appearance. It was plain that some mysterious tie existed among these travelers, however, for Iron Jaws, hearing the voices of the new-comers, looked up and exchanged a rapid glance with them.
"We will eat there," said one of the two men, pointing to a table at some distance from the man in brown, who smiled slightly as he saw the gesture. He himself had been in the meantime supplied with a decanter of brandy, and now took some newspapers from his pocket, one of which he began to read, holding it in such a way that he was concealed from the observation of every one in the room.
When Schwann brought in a delicious-looking omelette, the horse jockey said, in a loud voice:
"Is Rémisemont far from here?"
"Rémisemont! Ah! gentlemen, it is plain that you do not belong in these parts. It is not more than two leagues away."
"Then we can easily get there this afternoon?"
Schwann saw that he had made a blunder, and endeavored to retrieve it.
"We had better call it three leagues, and the road is a bad one, and you have to ford the river. There has been a great deal of rain, and two men were drowned there last year; and, by the way, they looked much like you."
"Many thanks!" And the old soldier laughed.