there was Count de Chaumont to be considered. How would he regard
such a leave-taking?

Doctor Chantry was as insensible to De Chaumont as I myself. Still he
agreed to write a note to his protector while I prepared my quill to
write one to Madame de Ferrier. With the spirit of the true parasite he
laid all the blame on me, and said he was constrained by duty to follow
and watch over me since it was impossible to curb a nature like mine.
And he left a loop-hole open for a future return to De Chaumont's easy
service, when the hardships which he willingly faced brought him his
reward.

This paper he brazenly showed me while I was struggling to beg Madame de
Ferrier's pardon, and to let her know that I aimed at something definite
whether I ever reached port or not.

I reflected with satisfaction that he would probably turn back at
Saratoga. We descended together to his room and brought away the things
he needed. In bulk they were twice as large as the load I had made for
myself. He also wrote out strict orders to Pierre to seal up his room
until his return. The inability of an old man to tear himself from his
accustomed environment cheered my heart.

We then went back to bed, and like the two bad boys we were, slept
prepared for flight.

II

"This is fine!" said Doctor Chantry, when we descended from the rough
stage which had brought us across a corduroy trail, and found ourselves
at the entrance of a spacious wooden tavern. "When I passed Saratoga
before there were only three log houses, and the inn had two rooms below
and one above. It was lighted by pine torches stuck in the chinks of the
wall--and see how candles shine through these windows!"

The tavern stood in a cleared place with miles of forest around it, and
a marsh stretching near by. Dusk could not prevent our seeing a few log
habitations, one of them decorated with a merchant's sign. We entered
among swarming crowds, a little world dropped into the backwoods. This
was more surprising because we had just left behind us a sense of wild
things gathering to their night haunts, and low savage cries, and
visions of moose and deer through far-off arches.

A man who appeared to be the host met us, his sprightly interest in our
welfare being tempered by the consciousness of having many guests; and
told us the house was full, but he would do what he could for us.

"Why is the house full?" fretted Doctor Chantry. "What right have you,
my dear sir, to c