“Think what you say, sir, and be respectful.”
“Silence!” interrupted the one who had first spoken. “Do not let us make an unnecessary disturbance, mon ami. Why do you wish to see our passports, sir?”
“Why?” asked Niclas, who was proud to play so distinguished a part before his comrades—“you wish to know why I desire to see your passports? Well, then, because you appear to me to be suspicious characters.”
A gay laugh was heard from the stage. “Why do you suspect us?”
“Because I never trust people travelling without baggage,” was the laconic reply.
“Bravo! well answered,” cried the crowd, and even Madame Niclas was surprised to see her husband show such daring courage.
“We need no baggage. We are travelling musicians, going to Amsterdam.”
“Travelling musicians All the more reason for mistrusting you; no good was ever heard of wandering musicians.”
“You are becoming impertinent, sir,” and Balby, the tallest and youngest of the two friends, sprang from the stage, while the servant swung himself from the box, where he was sitting with the postilion, and with an enraged countenance placed himself beside his master.
“If you dare to speak another insulting word, you are lost,” cried Balby.