"_Basta, basta!_" said Sir Nicholas, and frowned upon the pass. Now as he rode south it was in his mind that this pass, though it would safely carry him across the Frontier was likely to lead him to exposure at Madrid. He rode in silence, pondering it rather ruefully, but presently he twitched his shoulders as though to cast off these cares, and spurred his horse to a gallop. Joshua, following at a soberer pace with a led sumpter, watched his master disappear down the road in a cloud of dust, and shook his head. "Our last venture," said Joshua, and kicked his horse to a brisker pace. "A plague on all women! Come up, jade!" They made no great haste on the journey, for Sir Nicholas was loth to part with the horse he had bought in Paris. It bore him nobly, and he cherished it well. They went south by degrees, resting at the inns along the post road, and came at last to a lonely tavern within half a day's ride of the Frontier. It lay in a squalid village, and was obviously unfrequented by travellers. The last great inn they had passed housed a sick man, whom Joshua was quick to nose out. He got wind of a pestilent fever, and was urgent with his master not to remain. The afternoon was young yet, and the sun warm. Beauvallet consented to ride on. So they came at dusk to this rude inn, lying a little way off the post road. None came forth to welcome them, so Joshua went to kick the door, and raised a shout. Mine host came out, surly-seeming, but when he saw so richly caparisoned a gentleman he lost his scowl, and bowed to the ground. There was a room for the gentleman to be sure, if monseigneur would condescend to this poor abode. "I condescend," said Sir Nicholas. "Have you a truckle-bed, my man? Then set it up in my chamber for my servant." He swung himself down from the saddle, and fondled his mare a moment. "Eh, my beauty!" He had had her through the Marquis' advice, a fine, fleet black, with powerful quarters, and a mouth of velvet. "Take her, Joshua." He stretched himself, and swore at his stiffness. The landlord set open the door, and bowed him into the low-pitched taproom. Beauvallet sent him to fetch wine, and seemed to snuff the air. "Faugh!" It was squalid in the taproom, of a piece with the untidy yard without. He went to the window and forced it open to let in the clean air. The landlord came back with the wine, looked askance at the open window, and muttered a little under his breath. Sir Nicholas drank deeply, and upon the shuffling entrance of an out-at-elbows servant, stretched out his legs to have the high boots pulled off. He was at supper--a meagre collation which drew sundry pungent remarks from Joshua--when there came the sound of a led horse on the cobbles outside. A moment later the door was thrust open, and a young gentleman came in, very out of temper.