rters Roland had himself chosen for the centre
of his own operations; it was his own town, and he knew, with the
minuteness of boyish knowledge, every bush, every ruin, every cavern in
the neighborhood.

At Neuville the riders had skirted the village. Roland did not trouble
himself about a ruse, already known and thwarted; but on the other side
he found but one trail. He could not be mistaken in that horse, however;
it was the pacer. Certain of recovering the trail again, Roland retraced
his steps. The two riders had separated at a road leading off to Vannes;
one had taken that road, the other had skirted the village, which, as
we have said, was on the road to Bourg. This was the one to follow;
besides, the gait of the horse made it easier, as it could not be
confused with any other. Moreover, he was on his way to Bourg, and
between Neuville and Bourg there was but one other village, that of
Saint-Denis. For the rest, it was not probable that the solitary rider
intended to go further than Bourg.

Roland continued on his way with more eagerness than ever, convinced
that he was nearing the end. In fact the rider had not skirted Bourg,
but had boldly entered the town. There, it seemed to Roland that the
man had hesitated, unless this hesitation were a last ruse to hide his
tracks. But after ten minutes spent in following his devious tracks
Roland was sure of his facts; it was not trickery but hesitation.

The print of a man's steps came from a side street; the traveller and
the pedestrian had conferred together for a moment, and then the former
had evidently employed the latter as a guide. From that point on, the
footsteps of a man went side by side with those of the horse. Both came
to an end at the hotel de la Belle-Alliance. Roland remembered that the
horse wounded in the attack at Les Carronnieres had been brought to this
inn. In all probability there was some connivance between the inn-keeper
and the Companion of Jehu. For the rest, in all probability the rider
would stay there until the next evening. Roland felt by his own fatigue
that the man he was following must need rest. And Roland, in order
not to force his horse and the better to reconnoitre the tracks he was
following, had taken six hours to do thirty miles.

Three o'olock was striking from the truncated bell-tower of Notre-Dame.
Roland debated what to do. Should he stop at some inn in the town?
Impossible, he was too well known in Bourg; besides, his hors