The Son of Monte-Cristo, Volume II | Page 7

public with his extraordinary productions. A pyramid, formed of all the members of the troupe, at the top of which Caillette shone with a rose in her hand, stood at the bottom of the bills in red colors, and was gazed upon by the peasants in open-mouthed wonder. The hammering which went on in the interior of the booth sounded to them like music, and they could hardly await the night, which was to bring them so many magnificent things.
Girdel walked up and down in a dignified way and the crowd respectfully made way for him, while the giant, in stentorian tones, gave the orders to Fanfaro and Bobichel.
Bobichel's name was not on the bills; he was to surprise the public as a clown, and therefore his name was never mentioned. He generally amused the spectators in a comical way, and always made them laugh; even now, when he had finished his work, he mingled with the peasants and delighted them with his jokes.
Fanfaro and Caillette were still engaged constructing the booth. The young man arranged the wooden seats and the giant's daughter hung the colored curtains, which covered the bare walls, putting here and there artificial flowers on them. Sometimes Caillette would pause in her work, to look at Fanfaro with her deep blue eyes.
Fanfaro was now done with the seats and began to fasten two trapezes. They hung to a centre log by iron hooks, and were about twelve feet from the ground and about as far distant from each other.
Fanfaro lightly swung upon the centre log and hammered in the iron hooks with powerful blows.
The wonderfully fine-shaped body was seen to advantage in this position, and a sculptor would have enthusiastically observed the classical outlines of the young man, whose dark tights fitted him like a glove.
Fanfaro's hands and feet were as small as those of a woman, but, as Girdel had said, his muscles and veins were as hard as iron.
The iron hooks were fast now, and the young man swung himself upon a plank; he then glided down one trapeze, and with a quick movement grasped the other.
Like an arrow the slim body shot through the air, and then Fanfaro sprung lightly to the ground, while the trapeze flew back.
At the very moment the young man let go of the trapeze a faint scream was heard, and Caillette, deadly pale, stood next to Fanfaro.
"How you frightened me, you wicked fellow," said the young girl, drawing a deep breath.
"Were you really frightened, Caillette? I thought you would have got used to my exercises long ago."
"I ought to be so," pouted Caillette, pressing her hands to her fast-beating heart, "but every time I see you fly, fear seizes hold of me and I unconsciously cry aloud. Oh, Fanfaro, if an accident should happen to you--I would not survive it."
"Little sister, you are needlessly alarming yourself."
Caillette held down her pretty little head and the hot blood rushed to her velvety cheeks, while her hands nervously clutched each other.
"Caillette, what ails you?" asked Fanfaro.
"Oh--tell me, Fanfaro, why do you always call me 'little sister'?"
"Does the expression displease you, mademoiselle?" laughingly said the young man; "is it the word 'little,' or the word 'sister'?"
"I did not say the expression displeased me."
"Should I call you my big sister?"
"Why do you call me sister at all?"
A cloud spread over the young man's face.
"Did we not grow up together like brother and sister?" he asked; "you were six years old when your father took the deserted boy to his home."
"But you are not my brother," persisted Caillette.
"Perhaps not in the sense commonly associated with the term, but yet I love you like a brother. Doesn't this explanation please you?"
"Yes and no. I wished--"
"What would you wish?"
"I had rather not say it," whispered Caillette, and hastily throwing her arms about Fanfaro she kissed him heartily.
Fanfaro did not return the kiss; on the contrary he turned away and worked at the trapeze cord. He divined what was going on in Caillette, as many words hastily spoken had told the young man that the young girl loved him not as the sister loves the brother, but with a more passionate love. Caillette was still unaware of it, but every day, every hour could explain her feelings to her, and Fanfaro feared that moment, for he--did not love her.
How was this possible? He could hardly account for it himself. Caillette was so charming, and yet he could not think of the lovely creature as his wife; and as an honest man it did not enter his mind to deceive the young girl as to his feelings.
"Caillette," he said, now trying to appear cheerful, "we must hurry up with our preparations, or the performance will begin before we are done."
Caillette nodded, and taking her artificial flowers again in