at was sufficient, and he let us
go on without further question; except that he said that we should
have done better by going up to Saintes, or Cognac, and taking
service with the force there, instead of making this long journey
up to Agen."

They walked steadily on until, when it was nearly midnight, they
arrived at a small village on the banks of the Ciron. As the
inhabitants would have been in bed, hours before, they made up
their minds not to attempt to find a shelter there; but to cross by
the bridge, and sleep in the first clump of trees they came to. As
they approached the bridge, however, they saw a fire burning in the
centre of the road. Two men were sitting beside it, and several
others lay round.

"Soldiers!" Philip said. "It would not do to try to cross, at this
time of night. We will retire beyond the village, and wait until
morning."

They turned off into a vineyard, as soon as they were outside the
village; and lay down among the vines that had, some weeks before,
been cleared of their grapes.

"How far does this river run before it becomes fordable, Jacques?"

"I do not know, sir. There are hills run along, in a line with the
Garonne, some ten or twelve miles back; and I should say that, when
we get there, we shall certainly find points at which we might
cross this stream."

"That would waste nearly a day, and time is too precious for that.
We will go straight on in the morning. Our story has been good
enough, thus far. There is no reason why it should not carry us
through."

Accordingly, as soon as the sun was up they entered the village,
and went into a cabaret and called for wine and bread.

"You are travelling early," the landlord said.

"Yes, we have a long tramp before us, so we thought we had better
perform part of it before breakfast."

"These are busy times. Folks are passing through, one way or the
other, all day. It is not for us innkeepers to grumble, but peace
and quiet are all we want, about here. These constant wars and
troubles are our ruin. The growers are all afraid to send their
wine to market; for many of these armed bands are no better than
brigands, and think much more of robbing, and plundering, than they
do of fighting. I suppose, by your looks, you are going to take
service with some lord or other?"

Jacques repeated the usual tale.

"Well, well, every man to his liking," the landlord said; "but for
my part, I can't think what Frenchmen want to fly at each other