fate to which he had condemned them.

THE COUNTESS DE SAINT-GERAN--1639

About the end of the year 1639, a troop of horsemen arrived, towards
midday, in a little village at the northern extremity of the province of
Auvergne, from the direction of Paris. The country folk assembled at the
noise, and found it to proceed from the provost of the mounted police and
his men. The heat was excessive, the horses were bathed in sweat, the
horsemen covered with dust, and the party seemed on its return from an
important expedition. A man left the escort, and asked an old woman who
was spinning at her door if there was not an inn in the place. The woman
and her children showed him a bush hanging over a door at the end of the
only street in the village, and the escort recommenced its march at a
walk. There was noticed, among the mounted men, a young man of
distinguished appearance and richly dressed, who appeared to be a
prisoner. This discovery redoubled the curiosity of the villagers, who
followed the cavalcade as far as the door of the wine-shop. The host
came out, cap in hand, and the provost enquired of him with a swaggering
air if his pothouse was large enough to accommodate his troop, men and
horses. The host replied that he had the best wine in the country to
give to the king's servants, and that it would be easy to collect in the
neighbourhood litter and forage enough for their horses. The provost
listened contemptuously to these fine promises, gave the necessary orders
as to what was to be done, and slid off his horse, uttering an oath
proceeding from heat and fatigue. The horsemen clustered round the young
man: one held his stirrup, and the provost deferentially gave way to him
to enter the inn first. No, more doubt could be entertained that he was
a prisoner of importance, and all kinds of conjectures were made. The
men maintained that he must be charged with a great crime, otherwise a
young nobleman of his rank would never have been arrested; the women
argued, on the contrary, that it was impossible for such a pretty youth
not to be innocent.

Inside the inn all was bustle: the serving-lads ran from cellar to
garret; the host swore and despatched his servant-girls to the
neighbours, and the hostess scolded her daughter, flattening her nose
against the panes of a downstairs window to admire the handsome youth.

There were two tables in the principal eating-room. The provost took
possession of one, lea