CHAPTER XII. THE RASCAL'S REVENGE.

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CÆsar's laughing face grew serious at what Nadine said.

"That is so, Nadine," he responded. "I hadn't thought of it before. Doubtless it is well known that our performances have been very successful, and that we have taken in a good deal of money, and it may be that some of the other mountebanks who have been less fortunate would like very well to rob us of the results of our hard work."

"Oh! CÆsar, you make me nervous!" cried Nadine with a pretty shiver. "What can we do to protect ourselves?"

"Tut! sister, I'm not in earnest," rejoined CÆsar smilingly. "There's nothing to be afraid of. There are only honest people round about us. The next vans to ours are occupied by the performers of the Sito circus, and none of them would think of doing anything so mean. Nevertheless, just to make your mind easy, I will keep guard to-night, and at the first sign of anything suspicious I will give the alarm."

"I'm very sorry that we've had to put Nalla away off there with the circus animals," said Nadine in a tone of regret. "If he were only right beside our van we needn't worry at all, for he'd take care that no bad character got too near us."

"Yes, indeed," replied CÆsar. "With Nalla on guard we could sleep as soundly as we pleased."

"Look here, CÆsar," exclaimed Nadine, her face brightened by a happy thought which had just come to her. "I know what we can do. As soon as we have had our supper the whole four of us can go down where Nalla is, and sleep there under his protection. What do you say to that?"

"A capital idea, sister," answered CÆsar. "If we were quite sure that there is any real danger. But you see we are not, and if we leave our van and go down to the stables for the night the people might suspect us of some evil intentions. No—no—we will all stay here, and I will be sentinel while the rest of you sleep comfortably."

Considering all the hard work and the excitement that CÆsar had been having it was certainly very unselfish on his part—especially as he really felt no anxiety—to undertake to keep awake all night, and Nadine, striving to throw off the depressing nervousness which had come upon her, declared that it really was not necessary, that she would put the bag of money under her pillow, where it could not be touched without awaking her, and that CÆsar must go to bed like the rest, or she would sit up to keep him company.

The result of it was that they succeeded in reassuring one another so completely as to decide that no one should remain on guard, and in excellent spirits they sat down to their supper, for which they had all the best of appetites.

It was a capital supper, too, as Nadine, the careful little housewife, felt justified by their extra earnings during the week in providing something better than their ordinary fare. So the table showed a plump roast chicken, a succulent salad, a large loaf of white bread with a fine brown crust, a generous pat of golden butter, and a steaming pot of fragrant coffee.

The four young people ate and drank and talked with all their might. Everything was delicious except the coffee, that had a strange taste to which CÆsar was the first to call attention.

"Why, Nadine!" he exclaimed after swallowing half-a-cupful at one draught. "What's the matter with the coffee? It tastes so queer."

Nadine had noticed it herself, but, supposing it was just some little mistake in the brewing, had said nothing, and gone on drinking it, while Abel and Lydia were too keen of appetite to be particular.

"I'm sure I don't know," replied Nadine, being thus challenged, and feeling that her culinary reputation was at stake. "I made it myself, and I didn't notice anything different from other times. Perhaps there is too much chicory in it."

"That may be it," returned CÆsar. "Anyway I'm too thirsty to bother. I'll just finish off my share."

No sooner was the meal finished than Lydia, who seemed particularly tired, sat down on the floor beside Nadine's chair, and letting her head droop upon her little mother's knee, fell fast asleep.

"Poor little pet," murmured Nadine, fondling the golden curls. "Just see, CÆsar, how tired Lydia is! The sand-man has taken her by surprise. Indeed my own head feels very heavy."

"That's because we've been working so hard," responded CÆsar. "We're just tired out, all of us. Why, look at Abel—he's gone to sleep in his chair, and I don't wonder at him, I feel completely played out myself."

"I must hurry and undress the little ones and put them to bed," said Nadine, giving a great yawn, and making an effort to open wide her heavy-lidded eyes.

"Dear me! But how sleepy I feel. I can scarcely hold my head up."

"No more can I," drawled CÆsar drowsily as he dropped into a chair where a moment later he was sound asleep, while Nadine, without accomplishing what she had in mind, quickly followed his example, so that long ere midnight the whole four children were sunk in a profound slumber that could hardly have been due merely to natural fatigue.

It was a still dark night without a star showing in the heavens, and the camp of the mountebanks was as silent as a graveyard. Not a light shone in any of the other vans. Tired out by their week's work the occupants slept as sound as logs.

About one o'clock, two dark forms glided as noiselessly as shadows towards the Tamby van, and on getting close to it, halted to listen intently for a moment.

"Are you sure of your work, Fritsch?" whispered one in a deep voice to the other.

"Perfectly sure, Wilhelm," was the cautiously spoken reply. "I gave them a dose that would keep them asleep until nine o'clock anyway, and by that time I will have such a long start that they will never overtake me."

It was, in fact, the man who had put his van in the place the Tambys had first taken, and who, on being compelled to get out again, had determined to be revenged. Aided by his partner, he was now about to carry out his nefarious design, having succeeded in drugging the coffee they had drunk at their supper, so that they were almost insensible, and perfectly helpless.

"Very well, then," said Wilhelm, "let us go ahead, and you understand that we will meet you in the forest of Trefflieu three days hence."

Fritsch glanced anxiously about in every direction, and bent his ear to listen for the slightest sound.

"You hear nothing, eh?" he whispered to his accomplice.

"No—nothing. The coast is clear, hurry up!" responded the other.

Moving stealthily Fritsch ascended the steps of the van, and, finding the door unfastened, for sleep had come upon the occupants too suddenly for them to shut and bolt it as was their custom, he slipped inside, making his way with utmost caution. The lamp still burned dimly, and by its light he could find at once that for which he had come. He was busy only for a moment, and then he reappeared at the door bearing in his arms a large bundle wrapped in a shawl.

"I have her all right," said he in a hoarse whisper, his evil face lit up with a triumphant smile.

"Bravo!" muttered the other, and the next moment the two scoundrels disappeared in the darkness.

They went together as far as the gaudy van, into which one of them entered, while the other, carrying his burden, walked rapidly away out into the country over the silent deserted roads.

The day dawned, and at an early hour the occupants of the other vans began to bestir themselves. The fair was over. There were no more performances to be given. They were free to do as they pleased. Each party had its own plans. This one would hurry off to another place, and continue the campaign. That one would take a few days' rest in some quiet spot. One was going north, and another south. But they were all going somewhere. It was no use staying any longer at Beaulieu, nor coming back there again until next year.

In the midst of all this bustle, however, there was no sign of life about the Tamby van. Although it was after eight o'clock they still slept on when they were wont to be up and about at six.

Meanwhile, Nalla over at the stables was calling for his young owners with persistent and ear-splitting trumpetings. The sagacious creature knew very well that this tardiness was something altogether out of the usual, and he proclaimed his anxiety to the world. He was saying as plainly as he could:

"There must be something wrong. Won't somebody find out what it is? I never knew CÆsar and Abel to be so late giving me my breakfast."

"Why—what can be the matter with that big brute?" the other mountebanks asked impatiently. "He's making such a tremendous row!" But none of them were wise enough to catch his meaning, and institute inquiry.

Finally, about nine o'clock, CÆsar awoke, feeling very stupid, and having a dull headache. He rubbed his eyes, yawned widely, and looked about him. There were Nadine and Abel, still sound asleep beside the table with their heads pillowed upon their arms. Evidently no one had gone to bed. But where was Lydia?


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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