to be avenged, and at all costs he would ride after and recapture
her. He announced, therefore, to the corporal that they must push on
to Liege. Garin gasped at his obstinacy, and would have sought to have
dissuaded him, but that La Boulaye turned on him with a fierceness that
silenced his expostulations.

It was left to Nature to enforce what Garin could not achieve. When La
Boulaye came to attempt to mount he found it impossible. He was stiff
and numb from his long exposure in the rain, and when he moved with any
vigour his head swam dizzily and throbbed with pain.

At last he was forced to realise--with inward girding--that he must
relinquish his determination, and he acknowledged himself ready to take
the corporal's advice and make for the house whose lighted window shone
like a beacon in the darkness that had descended. He even allowed
them to prevail upon him to lie down in the cloak again, and thus they
carried him the remainder of the way. In his heart he still bore the
hope that short rest, restoratives, and fresh clothes would fit him for
the pursuit once more, and that if he set out within the next few hours
he might yet come up with Mademoiselle before she had passed beyond his
reach. Should the morning still find him unequal to the task of going
after her, he would despatch Garin and his men.

At last they reached the cottage--it was little more--and Garin rapped
on the door with his whip. It was opened by a woman, who told them, in
answer to the corporal's request for shelter, that her husband was from
home, and that she had no accommodation for them. It would seem that
the woman had housed soldiers of the Republic before, and that her
experiences had not been of a nature calculated to encourage her in the
practice. But La Boulaye now staggered forward and promised her generous
payment if she would receive them.

"Payment?" she cried. "In worthless assignats that nobody will take from
me. I know the ways of you."

"Not in assignats," La Boulaye promised her, "but in coin."

And having mollified her somewhat with that assurance, he proceeded
to urge her to admit them. Yonder was a shed where the horses could be
stabled for the night. But still the woman demurred.

"I lack the room," she said, with some firmness.

"But at least," put in Garin, "you could house the Citizen here. He has
been hurt, and he is scarcely able to stand. Come, woman, if you will
consent to that, we others can lie with the ho