Adventure stories; France -- History -- Henry IV, 1589-1610 -- Fiction
The wretch overwhelmed me with thanks and stood at the door watching
me as I crossed over the street, with a warning glance to Pantin, and
strolled slowly onwards. A little further on I turned to my left,
keeping well in the middle of the road to avoid the filth and refuse
thrown carelessly on each side, and as I turned I saw that my man had
gone in. I was certain of one thing, that the Toison d'Or was not far
off, and whilst I picked my way slowly along Pantin came up to me with
his sing-song whine.
'Have you found it?' I asked in a low tone.
'No,' he sang out.
At this moment a figure rose up from the steps of a house where I had
noticed it crouching, a few feet from me, and swung forwards.
'Hola! 'Tis Monsieur le Capitaine! Has your excellency tasted the
Beaugency--the dog-poison. I tell your excellency there is but one
house in the Faubourg where they sell it--the Toison d'Or.'
'Go and drink some there, then,' and I tossed him a piece of silver.
He picked it up from the road where it had fallen like a dog snatching
at a bone, and then stood surveying the coin, which he held in the
open palm of his hand.
'_You_ might,' he said; 'they would not serve me,' and then with a
drunken familiarity he came close to my elbow. 'I'll show you the
Toison d'Or. It is there--the second turn to the left and then
straight before you. As for me, I go back to taste Grigot's
Beaugency--his dog-poison,' he repeated with the spiteful insistence
of a man in his cups.
'The fool in his folly speaketh wisdom!' Pantin muttered under his
breath, and then the man, staggering from me, attempted to go back
whence he had been flung, but either the morning air was too strong
for him, or else he was taken with a seizure of some kind, for ere he
had gone ten paces he fell forwards on his face, and lay there in the
slime of the street.
At any other time I would have stopped to assist the man, but now I
could only look upon his condition as a direct interposition of
Providence and I let him lay where he had fallen.
'Come, Pantin,' I cried, 'we have found the spot.'
Following the directions given by our guide we found he had not
deceived us, and in a few minutes I was standing at the entrance of
the blind passage, at one end of which was the Toison d'Or.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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