e wished
my heart to have yielded to the influence of a superstition which for
every moment of life seems to have its own apt consolation and succor.
For when, as wayworn travellers refresh their parched lips at some
roadside well, and bless the charity that carved the little basin in the
rock,--so followers of this faith have ever and anon before their eyes
some material evidence of their Church's benevolence: now arming
them against the arrows of the world; now rendering them grateful for
benefits received; now taxing their selfishness by sacrifices which
elevate them in their own esteem; now comforting them by examples which
make them proud of their afflictions. It is this direct appeal from
the human heart to the hourly consolations of religion, that forms the
stronghold of belief in Catholic countries.

These thoughts were passing through my mind long after I left the little
shrine behind me. "So," said I, "here must be the _cabaret_ the sergeant
spoke of," as I heard the sound of a voice issuing from a small house
on the roadside. For a second or two I hesitated whether I should not
dismount and ask the way; but a moment's consideration satisfied me it
were better to risk nothing by delay, and cautiously advancing, I heard
by the sound of my horse's feet that we had left the highroad, and were
now on the clay path I looked for.

Again I dashed onward at a gallop, my powerful horse splashing through
the deep ground, or striding boldly across the heavy furrows; now
breasting some steep and rugged ascent where the torn-up way gave
passage to a swollen rivulet; now plunging down into some valley where
the darkness seemed thicker and more impenetrable still. At last I could
see, far down beneath me, the twinkling light of the village, and began
to deliberate with myself at what point I should turn off leftwards.
Each moment the path seemed to lead me in the direction of the light,
while I felt that my road led straight onwards. I drew my rein to
deliberate what course I should take, when directly in front of me I
thought I could detect the clank of a sabre flapping against the flank
of a horse. I lowered my head on a level with my horse's main, and could
now distinctly hear the sound I suspected; and more still, the deep
tones of a soldier's voice interrogating some one, who by the patois of
his answer I guessed to be a peasant.

"You are certain, then, we have not come wrong?" said the horseman.

"Ah! I know the w