," he said, turning away with all the signs of servile
submission, in spite of his disappointment.

"Go faster," said the lady to the postilion. "There is no longer any
danger; go at a fast trot, or even a gallop, if you can; we are almost
into Alencon."

As the carriage passed the commandant, she called out to him, in a sweet
voice:--

"We will meet at the inn, commandant. Come and see me."

"Yes, yes," growled the commandant. "'The inn'! 'Come and see me'! Is
that how you speak to an officer in command of the army?" and he shook
his fist at the carriage, which was now rolling rapidly along the road.

"Don't be vexed, commandant, she has got your rank as general up her
sleeve," said Corentin, laughing, as he endeavored to put his horse into
a gallop to overtake the carriage.

"I sha'n't let myself be fooled by any such folks as they," said Hulot
to his two friends, in a growling tone. "I'd rather throw my general's
coat into that ditch than earn it out of a bed. What are these birds
after? Have you any idea, either of you?"

"Yes," said Merle, "I've an idea that that's the handsomest women I ever
saw! I think you're reading the riddle all wrong. Perhaps she's the wife
of the First Consul."

"Pooh! the First Consul's wife is old, and this woman is young," said
Hulot. "Besides, the order I received from the minister gives her name
as Mademoiselle de Verneuil. She is a _ci-devant_. Don't I know 'em?
They all plied one trade before the Revolution, and any man could make
himself a major, or a general in double-quick time; all he had to do was
to say 'Dear heart' to them now and then."

While each soldier opened his compasses, as the commandant was wont to
say, the miserable vehicle which was then used as the mail-coach drew up
before the inn of the Trois Maures, in the middle of the main street of
Alencon. The sound of the wheels brought the landlord to the door. No
one in Alencon could have expected the arrival of the mail-coach at the
Trois Maures, for the murderous attack upon the coach at Mortagne was
already known, and so many people followed it along the street that the
two women, anxious to escape the curiosity of the crowd, ran quickly
into the kitchen, which forms the inevitable antechamber to all Western
inns. The landlord was about to follow them, after examining the coach,
when the postilion caught him by the arm.

"Attention, citizen Brutus," he said; "there's an escort of the Blues
behind us; but i