The situation of Arcis-sur-Aube explains the effect which the arrival of a stranger was certain to produce.About eighteen miles from Troyes, on the high-road to Paris, opposite to a farm called "La Belle Etoile," a county road branches off from the main road, and leads to Arcis, crossing the vast plains where the Seine cuts a narrow green valley bordered with poplars, which stand out upon the whiteness of the chalk soil of Champagne.The main road from Arcis to Troyes is eighteen miles in length, and makes the arch of a bow, the extremities of which are Troyes and Arcis, so that the shortest route from Paris to Arcis is by the county road which turns off, as we have said, near the Belle Etoile.The Aube is navigable only from Arcis to its mouth.
Therefore this town, standing eighteen miles from a high-road, and separated from Troyes by monotonous plains, is isolated more or less, and has but little commerce or transportation either by land or water.
Arcis is, in fact, a town completely isolated, where no travellers pass, and is attached to Troyes and La Belle Etoile by stage-coaches only.All the inhabitants know each other; they even know the commercial travellers who come, now and then, on business from the large Parisian houses.Thus, as in all provincial towns in a like position, a stranger, if he stayed two days, would wag the tongues and excite the imaginations of the whole community without his name or his business being known.
Now, Arcis being still in a state of tranquillity three days before the morning when, by the will of the creator of so many histories, the present tale begins, there was seen to arrive by the county road a stranger, driving a handsome tilbury drawn by a valuable horse, and accompanied by a tiny groom, no bigger than my fist, mounted on a saddle-horse.The coach, connecting with the diligences to Troyes, had brought from La Belle Etoile three trunks coming from Paris, marked with no name, but belonging to this stranger, who took up his quarters at the Mulet inn.Every one in Arcis supposed, on the first evening, that this personage had come with the intention of buying the estate of Arcis; and much was said in all households about the future owner of the chateau.The tilbury, the traveller, his horses, his servant, one and all appeared to belong to a man who had dropped upon Arcis from the highest social sphere.
The stranger, no doubt fatigued, did not show himself for a time;perhaps he spent part of the day in arranging himself in the rooms he had chosen, announcing his intention of staying a certain time.He requested to see the stable where his horses were to be kept, showed himself very exacting, and insisted that they should be placed in stalls apart from those of the innkeeper's horses, and from those of guests who might come later.In consequence of such singular demands, the landlord of the hotel du Mulet considered his guest to be an Englishman.
On the evening of the first day several attempts were made at the Mulet by inquisitive persons to satisfy their curiosity; but no light whatever could be obtained from the little groom, who evaded all inquiries, not by refusals or by silence, but by sarcasms which seemed to be beyond his years and to prove him a corrupt little mortal.
After making a careful toilet and dining at six o'clock, the stranger mounted a horse, and, followed by his groom, rode off along the road to Brienne, not returning till a very late hour to the Mulet.The landlord, his wife, and her maids had meantime gained no information from a careful examination of his trunks, and the articles about his rooms, as to the projects or the condition of their mysterious inmate.
On the stranger's return the mistress of the house carried up to him the book in which, according to police regulations, he was required to inscribe his name, rank, the object of his journey, and the place from which he came.
"I shall write nothing," he said to the mistress of the inn."If any one questions you, you can say I refused; and you may send the sub-prefect to see me, for I have no passport.I dare say that many persons will make inquiries about me, madame, and you can tell them just what you like.I wish you to know nothing about me.If you worry me on this point, I shall go to the Hotel de la Poste on the Place du Pont and remain there for the fortnight I propose to spend here.Ishould be sorry for that, because I know that you are the sister of Gothard, one of the heroes of the Simeuse affair.""Enough, monsieur," said the sister of the steward of Cinq-Cygne.
After such a beginning, the stranger kept the mistress of the house a whole hour and made her tell him all she knew of Arcis, of its fortunes, its interests, and its functionaries.The next day he disappeared on horseback, followed by his tiger, returning at midnight.
We can now understand Mademoiselle Cecile's little joke, which Madame Beauvisage thought to be without foundation.Beauvisage and Cecile, surprised by the order of the day promulgated by Severine, were enchanted.While his wife went to dress for Madame Marion's reception, the father listened to the many conjectures it was natural a girl should make in such a case.Then, fatigued with his day, he went to bed as soon as his wife and daughter had departed.
As may readily be supposed by those who know anything of country towns, a crowd of persons flocked to Madame Marion's that evening.The triumph of Giguet junior was thought to be a victory won against the Comte de Gondreville, and to insure forever the independence of Arcis in the matter of elections.The news of the death of poor Charles Keller was regarded as a judgment from heaven, intended to silence all rivalries.
