last I saw of him he was entering the
inn to drink to my good fortune.

When I had got clear of the village, I unfolded Blaise's paper and read
the maxims:

1. "_Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of
it._"

2. "_Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife
young._"

3. "_Never leave a highway for a byway._"

Very good counsel, thought I, and worth bearing in mind. It was true, my
very journey itself was, as to its foolhardy purpose, a violation of the
first maxim. But that could not be helped now, and I could at least heed
that piece of advice, as well as the others, in the details of my
mission. When I thought of that mission, I felt both foolish and
heavy-hearted. I had not the faintest idea yet of how I should go about
encountering Brignan de Brignan and getting into a quarrel with him, and
I had great misgivings as to how I should be able to conduct myself in
that quarrel, and as to its outcome. Certainly no man ever took the road
on a more incredible, frivolous quest. Of all the people travelling my
way, that June morning, T was probably one of the most thoughtful and
judiciously-minded; yet of every one but myself the business in being
abroad was sober and reasonable, while mine was utterly ridiculous and
silly. And the girl whose banter had driven me to it--perhaps she had
attached no seriousness whatever to my petulant vow and had even now
forgotten it. With these reflections were mingled the pangs of parting
from my home and family; and for a time I was downcast and sad.

But the day was fine. Presently my thoughts, which at first had flown
back to all I had left behind, began to concern themselves with the
scenes around me; then they flew ahead to the place whither I was
bound:--this is usually the way on journeys. At least, thought I, I
should see life, and perchance meet dangers, and so far be the gainer.
And who knows but I might even come with credit out of the affair with
Monsieur de Brignan?--it is a world of strange turnings, and the upshot
is always more or less different from what has been predicted. So I took
heart, and already I began to feel I was not exactly the pale scholar of
yesterday. It was something to be my own master, on horseback and
well-armed, my eyes ranging the wide and open country, green and brown
in the sunlight, dotted here and there with trees, sometimes traversed
by a stream, and often backed by woods of darker green, which seeme