nd at home; passports were not essential to the
native traveller; and Florian, turning down the first cross-road,
proceeded rapidly all night, and the four following days; pausing
occasionally to refresh his wearied steed, changing his name whenever he
was required to declare it, and observing a zigzag direction to blind
his pursuers. On the fifth morning he found himself in a fertile
district of central France; and, considering himself safe from all
immediate danger, he pursued his journey more leisurely between the
vine-covered and gently-swelling hills, until the noonday heat and dusty
road made him sensibly feel the want of refreshment. While gazing around
him for some hamlet or cottage to pause at, his attention was caught by
sounds of lamentation at no great distance, and a sudden turn in the
road revealed to him a prostrate mule, vainly endeavouring to regain his
legs, one of which was broken. A tall boy, in peasant garb, was
scratching his head in rustic embarrassment at this dilemma, and near
him stood a young and very lovely woman, wringing her hands in
perplexity, and lamenting over the unfortunate mule, a remarkably fine
animal, and caparisoned with a completeness which indicated the easy
circumstances of his owner. Florian immediately stopped his horse, and,
with his wonted kindness, dismounted to offer his assistance. The young
woman said nothing as he approached, but her beautiful dark eyes
appealed to him for aid and counsel with an eloquence which reached
his heart in a moment. Examining the mule, he said, after some
consideration, "There is no hope for the poor animal; and the most
humane expedient will be to shoot him as soon as possible. Your
side-saddle can be strapped on my horse, which shall convey you to the
next village, or as much farther as you like, if you have no objection
to the conveyance."

Expressing her thanks with engaging frankness and cordiality, the
fair traveller told him that she was returning from a visit to some
relations, and that she was still four leagues from her father's house.
She would gladly, she said, avail herself of his kind offer, but
insisted that her servant should not kill her favourite mule until she
was out of sight and hearing. Then turning briskly towards Florian,
she told him that she was ready to proceed, but objected to the exchange
of saddles; and, as she was accustomed to ride on a pillion, would
rather sit behind him as well as she could, than give him t