nsult me."

Chicot made a menacing gesture.

"Hola!" cried the host; "hola! help!"

Four men armed with sticks immediately appeared.

"Ah! here are the four winds," cried Chicot, making a thrust with his
sword at one of them; but they all rapidly disappeared, not, however,
before one of them had whispered something to the host.

"Your clothes shall be found," growled he.

"Well! that is all I ask."

They soon made their appearance, but visibly deteriorated.

"Ah! there are nails in your staircase; what a devil of a wind it was,"
said Chicot.

"Now you will go to bed again?" said the host.

"No, I thank you, I have slept enough; leave me your lantern and I will
read."

Chicot replaced the chest of drawers against the door, dressed himself,
got into bed again, and read till daybreak, when he asked for his
horse, paid his bill, and went away, saying to himself--

"We shall see, to-night."

CHAPTER XXXV.

HOW CHICOT CONTINUED HIS JOURNEY, AND WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM.

Chicot passed his morning in congratulating himself on the sang-froid
and patience he had displayed through his night of trials.

"But," thought he, "they never take an old wolf twice in the same snare;
therefore, it is nearly certain that they will invent some new devilry
to practice on me to-day, so I must be on my guard."

The result of this reasoning was, that Chicot made a march that day
worthy of being immortalized by Xenophon. Every tree, rising ground, or
wall, served him for a point of observation. He also concluded on the
road alliances, if not offensive, at least defensive. Four grocers from
Paris, who were going to Orleans to order preserves, and to Limoges for
dried fruits, allowed Chicot, who called himself a hosier from Bordeaux,
returning home, to join their company, which was rendered more
formidable by four clerks, who were following their masters. It was
quite a little army, and scarcely less formidable in mind than in
number, so warlike a spirit had the League introduced among the Parisian
shopkeepers. At all events, three cowards together have less fear than
one brave man alone. At last they reached Etampes, the town fixed on for
supper and sleeping. They supped, and then each went to his room.

Chicot, who had not been sparing during the repast, either of his fun,
which amused his companions, or of the Muscat and Burgundy, went to bed,
after having settled to travel again with the grocers on the morrow.
Chicot,