ed. "Has it gone?" And then, when
the man told her she was indeed too late, all strength and energy left
her, and she sank sobbing on the wooden bench by the door.

There were two other men in the room, who looked at her curiously; she
was such a pretty girl, even in the midst of her grief. One was an old
pedlar, with his well-filled pack on the floor beside him. He had a
pleasant, homely face, and thin, bent figure. The other was a
middle-sized, powerful fellow, clean shaven and beetle-browed, and
dressed in shabby, ill-fitting garments. It was hard to tell what his
rank in life might be. He stared once again at Babette, and then handed
his glass to the host to be re-filled. The pedlar was the first to break
the silence.

[Illustration: "'CHEER UP, MY LASS', HE SAID KINDLY."]

"Cheer up, my lass," he said, kindly; "I too have missed the coach, and
I too must reach Brussels to-night. I have two thousand francs in notes
and gold in my pocketbook, which are the savings of a lifetime, and I am
going to pay them into the bank tomorrow. Then I shall give up my trade
and start a little shop."

"I would not talk too much about them in the meantime, friend. In some
countries it might be dangerous, but we are honest in Belgium."

It was the other man who spoke, and his voice, though rough, was not
unpleasant. He paid the landlord, caught up his stick, and with a curt
"Good-day" passed out of "Les Trois Freres."

"He, also, perhaps, is going to Brussels. He means to walk, and if he,
why not I?" said the pedlar. He had come in cold and tired, and the
landlord's good ale had made him slightly loquacious. "Yes, I shall try
and walk. The roads are better walking than driving. It is not so very
many miles, and most likely I shall be overtaken by some cart going the
same way." And he rose as he spoke.

Babette rose also and caught him eagerly by the hand. "I will walk with
you," she cried. "I am strong, well shod, and the fastest walker in our
village. We can get to Brussels before dark, in spite of my having my
boy to carry. Oh! bless you for thinking of it, for now I shall see Paul
before the year is out."

Nor would she be dissuaded. Farmer Jean came in and said something about
snow. "The sky was darkening for it already." But Babette was firm. The
landlord's buxom wife came forth from an inner room and offered her a
lodging for the night, and then, when she could not persuade her, helped
her to wrap the baby up afresh, and