give them a
further fright I said, "It is simple enough. This fellow came to rob,
perhaps to kill me. I heard him in my room. For the rest I do not
think he will turn thief again in a hurry."

In the midst of the hubbub, Pillot came towards us, rubbing his eyes
sleepily, and asking in a cross voice what the mischief was, and why a
man could not be allowed to sleep without all that clatter. So well
did he act that, but for my glimpse of him on the stairs, I should not
have guessed he was the author of the trick.

"If monsieur will lend me the candle," said he, "we will make a
search," and he gravely led the way downstairs.

"This is the way," cried the innkeeper, "see here!" and, perspiring
with excitement, he pointed to the door which led into the stable yard.
In his desperate efforts to escape, the fellow had burst it open at a
blow.

No one in the inn went to sleep again that night. Pillot returned to
my room, and told with evident enjoyment all about his trick. He was
lying in wait when the man first entered, and, as the fellow crouched
to the ground, had sprung lightly on his back.

"He thought the Evil One had him, monsieur, to a certainty, and yelled
loud enough to waken the dead. I do believe that till his dying day
Pierre Angin will be an honest man!"

As soon as it was light the innkeeper, still looking white and scared,
prepared some breakfast, and afterwards ordered our animals to be
brought to the door. From the joyful way he pocketed the coin I gave
him, it was evident he had not counted on payment, which perhaps
explained the surliness of his manners. Might was right in those dark
days of the Fronde, and the folk of the strong hand cared little for
justice. Pillot, I am sure, thought me crazy, to pay this simple boor
in money, when a cut with a whip would, in his opinion, have done just
as well.

The weather remained beautifully fine, and, until near the capital, our
ride was very pleasant. During the last part of the journey, however,
my cheerfulness was dashed by the universal signs of desolation and
decay. The ground lay bare and unfilled, the fat beeves and sturdy
oxen had vanished, to be replaced here and there by a lean scraggy
beast or two, all skin and bone; the yards were destitute of ricks, the
hovels were deserted or inhabited by diseased and half-starved
scarecrows; erstwhile honest villagers, rendered desperate by hunger,
prowled in the woods to pounce on any unwary trave