Gus silently cursed the skills of the craftsman who had built this box. There wasn’t a crack of light. The air would soon turn stale.
He hoped that Alain and his wife would quickly charm their way into being allowed to continue on the road. Anything so that he could breathe fresh air again.
The cart came to a stop. “Bonjour, Vincent. Bonjour, Claude!” The Rufus’s cheery greeting gave away the identity of those who had intercepted them.
“Bonjour,” replied Claude.
Vincent was his usual gruff self and gave a loud snort. “Where are you off to this morning?”
“The same place we said last night. Tréguidel with milk for the cheese makers. You can see the pots are in the cart,” replied Alain.
“Go check,” ordered Vincent.
Wrapping his fingers around the wrist which held the gun, Gus steadied his hand. His heart was thumping hard in his chest.
The cart shifted from side to side. He could only hazard a guess that Alain had climbed down. Heavy boots on the road drew closer.
“See? Brass milk pots. Pick one up,” offered Alain.
“Did you see anyone on the road this morning?” asked Claude.
“No. The road has been clear of other travelers. But we have been keeping an eye out for any sign of the La Roche girl.”
“Yes, poor Evangeline. I cannot imagine what she must be going through. That English pig murdering her uncle and then kidnapping her. Alain has promised me that he will shoot that long-haired fiend on sight,” added Madame Rufus.
Gus’s heart was now pounding so hard, his ears throbbed. Fear and adrenaline coursed through his veins. It had been a long time since he had faced such a deadly situation.
Beside him, Evangeline was silent.
His pistol was ready to deliver death to the first of Vincent’s men—the knife hidden beneath his coat destined for the next man foolish enough to peer into the box.
“What’s in the case?” asked Claude.
“Bits and pieces. Rope and other things,” replied Alain.
“Open it.”
Gus held his breath.
There was a brief moment of silence, followed by the creak of the wood as the lid of the box was lifted. Sunlight and fresh air rushed in.
He was still blinking when a badly scarred face appeared. Gus pointed the pistol right between the other man’s eyes. The message was clear—if I die, so do you. Their gazes locked on one another for a split second.
“What’s in there?” asked Vincent.
Claude moved his head around. Gus imagined that from a distance, it might appear as if he was checking its contents.
“Ropes, an old blanket, and a broken bridle.” Claude let go of the lid, and it closed once more.
“Ah, yes. I have been meaning to get the tanner to fix that piece of leather,” said Alain.
Evangeline’s hand settled on the side of Gus’s leg. He was too busy wondering what on earth had just happened to respond to her touch.
“Let’s get going,” yelled Vincent.
The cart moved once more as Alain climbed back on board. “Good luck in your search. I hope you find them.”
“Godspeed,” added Madame Rufus.
