ined, at
least not more than three, and so, leaving the greater portion of my
company behind, I set out, escorted only by Gilles and Antoine. Night
had fallen long before we reached Lespinasse, and with it came foul
weather. The wind rose from the west, grew to the violence of a
hurricane, and brought with it such a deluge of cold, cutting rain as
never had it been my ill-chance to ride through. From Lespinasse to
Fenouillet the road dips frequently, and wherever this occurred it
seemed to us that we were riding in a torrent, our horses fetlock-deep
in mud.

Antoine complained in groans; Gilles growled openly, and went the length
of begging me, as we rode through the ill-paved, flooded streets of
Fenouillet, to go no farther. But I was adamant in my resolve. Soaked to
the skin, my clothes hanging sodden about me, and chilled to the marrow
though I was, I set my chattering teeth, and swore that we should not
sleep until we reached Toulouse.

"My God," he groaned, "and we but halfway!"

"Forward!" was all I answered; and so as midnight chimed we left
Fenouillet behind us, and dashed on into the open country and the full
fury of the tempest.

My servants came after me upon their stumbling horses, whining and
cursing by turns, and forgetting in their misery the respect that they
were accustomed to pay me. I think now that it was a providence that
guided me. Had I halted at Fenouillet, as they would have had me do,
it is odds that this chronicle would never have been penned, for likely
enough I had had my throat cut as I slept. A providence was it also that
brought my horse down within a half-mile of Blagnac, and so badly did it
founder that it might not be ridden farther.

The beasts my men bestrode were in little better condition, and so, with
infinite chagrin, I was forced to acknowledge defeat and to determine
that at Blagnac we should lie for the remainder of the night. After all,
it mattered little. A couple of hours' riding in the morning would bring
us to Toulouse, and we would start betimes.

I bade Gilles dismount--he had been the louder in his complainings--and
follow us afoot, bringing my horse to the Auberge de l'Etoile at
Blagnac, where he would await him. Then I mounted his jaded beast, and,
accompanied by Antoine--the last of my retainers--I rode into Blagnac,
and pulled up at the sign of the "Star."

With my whip I smote the door, and I had need to smite hard if I would
be heard above the wind that