s. Then came a drove of enormous cattle,
which pressed against little Jack on all sides; he feels the damp breath
from their nostrils; their tails switch violently, and the heat of their
bodies, and the odor of the stable, is almost stifling. Two boys and
two dogs are in charge of these animals; the dogs bark, and the uncouth
peasants yell, until the noise is appalling.

As they pass on, the child is absolutely stupefied by terror. These
animals have gone, but will there not be others? It begins to rain, and
Jack, in despair, fails on his knees, and wishes to die. The sound of a
carriage, and the sight of two lamps like friendly eyes coming quickly
toward him, revives him suddenly. He calls aloud.

The carriage stops. A head, with a travelling cap drawn closely down
over the ears, bends forward to ascertain the whereabouts of the shrill
cry.

"I am very tired," pleaded Jack; "would you be so kind as to let me come
into your carriage?"

The man hesitated, but a woman's voice came to the child's assistance.
"Ah, what a little fellow I Let him come in here."

"Where are you going?" asked the traveller.

The child hesitated. Like all fugitives, he wished to hide his
destination. "To Villeneuve St George," he answered, nervously.

"Come on, then," said the man, with gruff kindness.

The child was soon curled up under a comfortable travelling rug, between
a stout lady and gentleman, who both examined him curiously by the light
of the little lamp.

Where was he going so late, and all alone, too? Jack would have liked
to tell the truth, but he was in too great fear of being carried back to
the Institute. Then he invented a story to suit the occasion. His mother
was very ill in the country, where she was visiting. He had been told of
this the night before, and he had at once started off on foot, because
he had not patience to wait for the next day's train.

"I understand," said the lady. And the gentleman looked as if he
understood also, but made many wise observations as to the imprudence of
running about the country alone, there were so many dangers. Then he was
asked in what house in Villeneuve his mother's friends resided.

"At the end of the town," answered Jack, promptly,--"the last house on
the right."

It was lucky that his rising color was hidden by the darkness. His
cross-examination, however, was by no means over. The husband and wife
were great talkers, and, like all great talkers, extremely curious, an