Mère Tigrane leered at him with horrible intelligence.
“No one is to think a heretic pretty but the dragoons, eh?� she said grinning. “Dame! we know what you think, monsieur.�
The man laughed brutally, and she edged up to him, whispering in his ear, her narrow eyes on the silent visitor opposite. The dragoon looked over too at her words, and broke out with an oath.
“You are a witch, Mère Tigrane,� he said uneasily; “let me alone!�
Again she whispered, but laughed this time, showing her yellow teeth.
Meanwhile the showman had been fortunate and a dozen new-comers crowded into the tent, pressing the others aside. This afforded an opportunity for the hunchback to approach the young man, who had remained by the bier as if chained to the ground. Le Bossu touched his arm, at first lightly, but finding himself unheeded, he jerked the other’s sleeve. The stranger started and stared at him as if he had just awakened from sleep.
“A word with you, friend,� said the hunchback, softly.
The man hesitated, started, paused and cast another long look at the dead face, and then followed the cripple through the group at the door, out into the sunshine and uproar of the market-place. They were not unobserved by Mère Tigrane, but she made no effort to follow them; she was watching the new arrivals as they approached the corpse. As she saw their faces of curiosity and horror, she laughed.
“Mère de Dieu!� she said, “’tis worth a half-crown after all—and I paid Adolphe in false coin too, pauvre garçon!�
In the market-place, the stranger had halted with the hunchbacked cobbler.