“Light!” cried Fario. “If those who laugh at me had it on their feet, their corns would never hurt them again.”
“Well, it must be devilishly light,” answered Max, “for look there!” pointing to the foot of the tower; “it has flown up the embankment.”
At these words all eyes were lifted to the spot, and for a moment there was a perfect uproar in the market-place. Each man pointed at the barrow bewitched, and all their tongues wagged.
“The devil makes common cause with the inn-keepers,” said Goddet to the astonished Spaniard. “He means to teach you not to leave your cart about in the streets, but to put it in the tavern stables.”
At this speech the crowd hooted, for Fario was thought to be a miser.
“Come, my good fellow,” said Max, “don’t lose heart. We’ll go up to the tower and see how your barrow got there. Thunder and cannon! we’ll lend you a hand! Come along, Baruch.”
“As for you,” he whispered to Francois, “get the people to stand back, and make sure there is nobody at the foot of the embankment when you see us at the top.”
Fario, Max, Baruch, and three other knights climbed to the foot of the tower. During the rather perilous ascent Max and Fario noticed that no damage to the embankment, nor even trace of the passage of the barrow, could be seen. Fario began to imagine witchcraft, and lost his head. When they reached the top and examined into the matter, it really seemed a thing impossible that the cart had got there.
“How shall I ever get it down?” said the Spaniard, whose little eyes began for the first time to show fear; while his swarthy yellow face, which seemed as it if could never change color, whitened.
“How?” said Max. “Why, that’s not difficult.”
And taking advantage of the Spaniard’s stupefaction, he raised the barrow by the shafts with his robust arms and prepared to fling it down, calling in thundering tones as it left his grasp, “Look out there, below!”
No accident happened, for the crowd, persuaded by Francois and eaten up with curiosity, had retired to a distance from which they could see more clearly what went on at the top of the embankment. The cart was dashed to an infinite number of pieces in a very picturesque manner.
“There! you have got it down,” said Baruch.
“Ah, brigands! ah, scoundrels!” cried Fario; “perhaps it was you who brought it up here!”
Max, Baruch, and their three comrades began to laugh at the Spaniard’s rage.
“I wanted to do you a service,” said Max coolly, “and in handling the damned thing I came very near flinging myself after it; and this is how you thank me, is it? What country do you come from?”
“I come from a country where they never forgive,” replied Fario, trembling with rage. “My cart will be the cab in which you shall drive to the devil!—unless,” he said, suddenly becoming as meek as a lamb, “you will give me a new one.”