ied her words.

"We should be more closely observed at some smaller place than here,"
said Hugues. "Besides, we need not go to an inn here. There is a decent,
close-mouthed woman I know, a butcher's widow, who will lodge you if her
rooms are not taken. It would be best to avoid the inns and go to her
house at once. As like as not, if the Count did hunt this road, he would
pass through the town without guessing you were at private lodgings."

"It is the best thing we can do," said I, with a blessing upon all
widows of butchers. Hugues guided us to a little street behind the
church of the Trinity, and soon brought the widow's servant, and then
the widow herself, to the door. Her rooms were vacant, and we took two
of them, in the top story, one overlooking the street, the other a
backyard wherein she agreed to let our horses stand. She promised
moreover to say nothing of our presence there, and so, while Hugues led
the horses through the narrow stone-paved passage, the widow showed us
to our rooms. The front one being the larger and better, I left the
Countess in possession of it as soon as we were alone, that she might
rest until the woman brought the food I had ordered.

When breakfast was set out in the back room, and the Countess opened her
door in answer to my knock, she looked so worn out and ill that I was
alarmed. She had fallen asleep, she said, and my knock had wakened her.
She ate little, and I could see that she was glad to go back and lie
down again.

I had thought to resume our journey in the evening, and perhaps reach
Chateaudun by a night's riding. But at evening the Countess seemed no
more fit to travel than before. So I decided to stay at the widow's till
Madame was fully recovered. Hugues would have remained with us another
day, but I sent him back to his mill and Mathilde.

On the morrow the Countess was no better. I took the risk of going out,
obtaining medicine at the apothecary's, and purchasing other necessary
things for both of us which we had not been able to provide before our
flight. I was in dread lest we might have to resort to a physician and
so make discovery that my young brother was a woman. Madame declared her
illness was but exhaustion, and that she would soon be able to go on.
But it was some days before I thought her strong enough to do so.

We had come into Vendome on a Wednesday: we left it on the following
Monday morning. We encountered nothing troublesome on the road, and
arr