I knocked at the door, and, being admitted by a neat-looking woman in a high cap, was ushered into a room, where I found Monsieur Jules Pontet, the mayor, seated, with number of papers before him. I explained that, having been induced to go and see a strange animal said to be a bear, I had discovered a countryman, an old acquaintance of my own, who had been compelled by some means or other to play the part, that he was being cruelly treated, and desired to be set free.
The mayor listened politely.
“I have heard of this strange animal, and suspected that there was some trick,” he observed; “I will accompany you forthwith, and if you are right in your conjectures, we will have the man set free.”
“They are more than conjectures, they are certainties, monsieur,” I answered.
I then thanked him for his courtesy, when, getting his hat and cane, he immediately set out with me, followed by Pierre, who was eager to see the end.
We found a number of people collected round Chacot’s cottage, which made me hope that during my absence he had not been able, had he contemplated violence, to carry his intention into effect.
“I wish to see this strange animal I have heard of,” said the mayor in an authoritative tone. “Go, some of you, and tell Chacot that I desire him to bring the creature out on the stage, and let him perform his tricks before me. Come, my friends, come in, you shall see the sight without payment this time.”
Whether Chacot was aware or not that I had brought the mayor, I could not tell, as he might not have observed me among the crowd.
In a short time the door of the stage opened, and Chacot appeared, dragging in the bear, who came very reluctantly, urged on by one of the young fellows from behind with a pike.
Larry was going through his performances, when the mayor said, turning to me—