10. The Real Knich

After having looked carefully all around, Knich whistled. The large dog Corbeau, who was standing near the wagon-gate, approached his master in two bounds, seated himself on his hind-legs, fixed his intelligent eyes on the farmer and waited.

“There’s no stranger in the neighborhood, Corbeau?” said Knich to the faithful guardian of his house.

Corbeau barked gently, in a peculiar manner, which clearly said to his master: “Be easy.” And, as a proof that everything was in truth perfectly quite outside, and consequently that one could be at his ease within, Corbeau began to chase flies. Evidently, he would not have amused himself in this manner if any danger had threatened the house.

Knich, reassured, returned with Maroussia into the cottage, but on entering the little vestibule, he passed the door to the right which led into the room where they had breakfasted, and opened a door at the left which communicated with the pantry.

This pantry was full of all kinds of food used by country people. They could hardly pass between the large bags of flour, oatmeal, rye meal, dried peas and beans.

The windows were large enough, but light scarcely penetrated them. A supply of hops, sausages, dried prunes, cherries in glass jars, apples, pears, pyramids of eggs, and bottles, were piled up before the windows and obstructed the view.

Maroussia stopped on the door-sill, hesitating, for the room was so full that it seemed impossible to pass through it.

“Come to the left,” Knich said to her, and, lifting up a barrel filled with brandy in his robust arms, he pressed with his foot on the floor, which opened, and disclosed to Maroussia a little stairway which seemed to lead to an underground place.

“Go slowly, little girl,” said Knich, “watch your steps, perhaps it is a little slippery.”