aps--now it seemed more like thirty; he
thought too that it was a village of some considerable size--five
hundred souls or perhaps more--he had noticed as he rode through it a
well-illuminated, one-storied house, and the words "Debit de vins" and
"Chambres pour voyageurs" painted in bold characters above the front
door. But now he had ridden on and on along the dark road for what
seemed endless hours--unconscious of time save that it was dragging on
leaden-footed and wearisome . . . and still no light on ahead to betray
the presence of human habitations, no distant church bells to mark the
progress of the night.

At last, in desperation, Maurice de St. Genis had thought of wrapping
himself in his cloak and getting what rest he could by the roadside, for
he was getting very tired and saddle-sore, when on his left he perceived
in the far distance, glimmering through the mist, two small lights like
bright eyes shining in the darkness.

What kind of a way led up to those welcome lights, Maurice had, of
course, no idea; but they proclaimed at any rate the presence of human
beings, of a house, of the warmth of fire; and without hesitation the
young man turned his horse's head at right angles from the road.

He had crossed a couple of ploughed fields and an intervening ditch,
when in the distance to his right and behind him he heard the sound of
horses at a brisk trot, going in the direction of Lyons.

Maurice drew rein for a moment and listened until the sound came nearer.
There must have been at least a score of mounted men--a military patrol
sent out by M. le Comte d'Artois, no doubt, and now on its way back to
Lyons. Just for a second or two the young man had thoughts of joining up
with the party and asking their help or their escort: he even gave a
vigorous shout which, however, was lost in the clang and clatter of
horses' hoofs and of the accompanying jingle of metal.

He turned his horse back the way he had come; but before he had
recrossed one of the ploughed fields, the troop of mounted men--whatever
they were--had passed by, and Maurice was left once more in solitude,
shouting and calling in vain.

There was nothing for it then, but to turn back again, and to make his
way as best he could toward those inviting lights. In any case nothing
could have been done in this pitch-dark night against the highway
thieves, and St. Genis had no fear that M. le Comte d'Artois would fail
to send him help for his expedition ag