hours a distance which her coaches had scarcely covered in the day; but
on the third evening, intending to make a short cut by a ford on the
Vaucouleurs, I found, to my chagrin, the advantage on the other side,
the ford, when I reached it at sunset, proving impracticable. As there
was every prospect, however, that the water would fall within a few
hours, I determined not to retrace my steps; but to wait where I was
until morning, and complete my journey to Houdan in the early hours.

There was a poor inn near the ford, a mere hovel of wood on a brick
foundation, yet with two storeys. I made my way to this with Maignan
and La Trape, who formed, with two grooms, my only attendance; but on
coming near the house, and looking about with a curious eye, I remarked
something which fixed my attention, and, for the moment, brought me to
a halt. This was the spectacle of three horses, of fair quality,
feeding in a field of growing corn, which was the only enclosure near
the inn. They were trampling and spoiling more than they ate; and,
supposing that they had strayed into the place, and the house showing
no signs of life, I bade my grooms fetch them out. The sun was about
setting, and I stood a moment watching the long shadows of the men as
they plodded through the corn, and the attitudes of the horses as, with
heads raised, they looked doubtfully at the newcomers.

Suddenly a man came round the corner of the house, and seeing us, and
what my men were doing, began to gesticulate violently, but without
sound. The grooms saw him too, and stood; and he ran up to my stirrup,
his face flushed and sullen.

"Do you want to see us all ruined?" he muttered. And he begged me to
call my men out of the corn.

"You are more likely to be ruined that way," I answered, looking down
at him. "Why, man, is it the custom in your country to turn horses
into the half-ripe corn?"

He shook his fist stealthily. "God forbid!" he said. "But the devil
is within doors, and we must do his bidding."

"Ah!" I replied, my curiosity aroused "I should like to see him."

The boor shaded his eyes, and looked at me sulkily from under his
matted and tangled hair. "You are not of his company?" he said with
suspicion.

"I hope not," I answered, smiling at his simplicity. "But your corn is
your own. I will call the men out." On which I made a sign to them to
return. "Now," I said, as I walked my horse slowly towards the house,
while he tramp