CHAPTER XII. THE AWAKENING 

La Boulaye awakened betimes next morning. It may be that the matter on his mind and the business that was toward aroused him; certainly it was none of the sounds that are common to an inn at early morn, for the place was as silent as a tomb. 

Some seconds he remained on his back, staring at the whitewashed ceiling and listening to the patter of the rain against his window. Then, as his mind gathered up the threads of recollection, he leapt from his bed and made haste to assume a garment or two. 

He stood a moment at his casement, looking out into the empty courtyard. From a leaden sky the rain was descending in sheets, and the gargoyle at the end of the eaves overhead was discharging a steady column of water into the yard. Caron shivered with the cold of that gloomy February morning, and turned away from the window. A few moments later he was in Tardivet's bedchamber, vigorously shaking the sleeping Captain. 

"Up, Charlot! Awake!" he roared in the man's ear. 

"What o'clock?" he asked with a yawn. Then a sudden groan escaped him, and he put his hand to his head. "Thousand devils!" he swore, "what a headache!" 

But La Boulaye was not there on any mission of sympathy, nor did he waste words in conveying his news. 

"The coach is gone," he announced emphatically. 

"Coach? What coach?" asked the Captain, knitting his brows. 

"What coach?" echoed La Boulaye testily. "How many coaches were there? Why, the Bellecour coach; the coach with the treasure." 
what is his first name?
Caron shivered