rhaps France will change her own name. Surely a Republic cannot
put up with the name that has been associated, for centuries, with
kings."

The landlord brought his hand down, with a heavy smack, on Leigh's
shoulder.

"Ah," he said, "I see that you are too young, as I am too old, to
care for the present changes. With anyone in the town I should not
venture to say anything; but I am sure, by your face, that you can
be trusted."

"And I can say the same to you, landlord."

"Are your papers, by the by, in good order?"

"Frankly, we have no papers."

The landlord gave a low whistle, expressive of surprise and
consternation.

"And how do you expect to travel, monsieur? How you have got so far
as this, I cannot make out; for at any tavern where you put up you
might, of course, have been asked for them."

"We have not put up at any towns, as yet; but have slept at little
places, where no questions were asked."

"But you can't get on like that, monsieur. Even in the small
villages, they are on the watch for suspected persons. You must
have papers of some sort."

"That is all very well," Leigh said; "the question is, where to get
them?"

"What story do you mean to tell?"

"If we had been stopped anywhere on our way here, we should have
said that we belonged to Le Mans; that, like most of the other
inhabitants, we fled before the Vendeans entered, and in such haste
that I forgot all about papers; and indeed could not have got them,
had I thought of it, as all the authorities had fled before we
did."

"That story, added to your appearance and that of madame as
respectable citizens, might succeed sometimes, with those who are
not anxious to show their zeal; but as most of these functionaries
are so, you would probably, if it was a village, be sent on under a
guard to the next town, and if it were a town would be thrown into
prison. And you know, to get in a prison in our days is--"

"Equivalent to a sentence of death," Leigh put in as he hesitated.

"You must get papers somehow--something that would pass at any rate
in the villages, where as often as not there is not a man who can
read. I will see what I can do. A cousin of mine is clerk to the
mayor. He is a good fellow, though he has to pretend to be a
violent supporter of the Convention.

"I don't know how you are situated, monsieur, but times are hard,
and all salaries terribly in arrears; and when they are paid it is
in assignats, and I need hardly say