There was, behind the box, a long narrow basket, in the shape of a closed sentry-box. Raising it by one end, she half opened the cover and cried:
"Now, Captain Montfaucon, you've had a good sleep, haven't you? Come now, Captain, we're a bit behind-hand with our exercises. Make up for it, Captain!"
She opened the top of the basket wide and disclosed in a kind of cradle, very comfortable, a little boy of seven or eight, with golden curls and red cheeks, who yawned prodigiously. Only half awake, he stretched out his hands to Dorothy who clasped him to her bosom and kissed him very tenderly.
"Baron Saint-Quentin," she called out. "Catch hold of the Captain. Is his bread and jam ready? Captain Montfaucon will continue the performance by going through his drill."
Captain Montfaucon was the comedian of the troupe. Dressed in an old American uniform, his tunic dragged along the ground, and his corkscrew trousers had their bottoms rolled up as high as his knees. This made a costume so hampering that he could not walk ten steps without falling full length. Captain Montfaucon provided the comedy by this unbroken series of falls and the impressive air with which he picked himself up again. When, furnished with a whip, his other hand useless by reason of the slice of bread and jam it held, his cheeks smeared with jam, he put the unbridled One-eyed Magpie through his performance, there was one continuous roar of laughter.
"Mark time!" he ordered. "Right-about-turn!... Attention, One-eye' Magpie!"—he could never be induced to say "One-eyed"—"And now the goose-step. Good, One-eye' Magpie.... Perfect!"
One-eyed Magpie, promoted to the rank of circus horse, trotted round in a circle without taking the slightest notice of the captain's orders, who, for his part, stumbling, falling, picking himself up, recovering his slice of bread and jam, did not bother for a moment about whether he was obeyed or not. It was so funny, the phlegm of the little man, and the undeviating course of the beast, that Dorothy herself was forced to laugh with a laughter that re-doubled the gayety of the spectators. They saw that the young girl, in spite of the fact that the performance was undoubtedly repeated every day, always took the same delight in it.
"Excellent, Captain," she cried to encourage him. "Splendid! And now, captain, we'll act 'The Gipsy's Kidnaping,' a drama in a brace of shakes. Baron Saint-Quentin, you'll be the scoundrelly kidnaper."
Uttering frightful howls, the scoundrelly kidnaper seized her and set her on One-eyed Magpie, bound her on her, and jumped up behind her. Under the double burden the mare staggered slowly off, while Baron Saint-Quentin yelled:
"Gallop! Hell for leather!"