"Not before nightfall," replied the host; "and you had a great deal better wait here to see one who can help you more speedily than anybody else." "Why cannot I go to him?" demanded Bernard de Rohan. "If you can find him, so can I." "Oh, surely," replied Gandelot, "but you run a great risk of being taken." "If that be all," answered the young cavalier, "I should think that there was less chance of being taken on the hillside than here. Something must be risked, at all events, Gandelot. Get me a peasant's frock, good friend, and a large hat: my own I lost in the fall, you see. When I am so dressed, I shall pass unknown, I'll warrant, should it be through the midst of this Lord of Masseran's men." "I must show you the way, however," replied the innkeeper. "But stay a minute, and I'll get what you want: it is no bad plan." Thus saying, Gandelot left him; but the aubergiste was not long before he returned, bringing with him a peasant's frock and belt, and a large straw hat, such as we have mentioned in describing the dress of good Father Willand at the beginning of this true history. The very act of putting them on was a relief to the mind of Bernard de Rohan; for, to a man accustomed to action, inactivity adds an almost insupportable burden to grief and anxiety. When the frock, however, was cast over his shoulders, and his head was covered with the hat, Gandelot gazed upon him with a smile, saying, "I must take care, my lord, that I don't mistake you for a peasant, and ask you to sell me eggs. Well, I did not know how much the dress made the man before." Passing over the bad compliment of his host without notice, Bernard de Rohan only expressed his eagerness to set out; and Gandelot, after having gone down to look round the inn on every side, and to ascertain that no one was watching, returned in a few minutes, carrying in his hand a short sword and dagger, such as were worn commonly by what were called the New Bands, warring in Piedmont for the service of France. "Nobody can tell what may happen, my lord," he said, "so you had better tuck those up under your gown; but don't draw the belt too tight, or the hilt will appear." Bernard de Rohan grasped the weapon as he would the hand of an old friend, and, concealing it carefully under the frock, he followed the innkeeper, who led him out through the back court of the auberge upon the side of the mountain, where a steep pathway led up between the rocks, and over the lower part of the hill, into one of the valleys, which, without plunging deep into the alpine scenery around, led through a softer but still uncultivated country, in the direction of Albens. The innkeeper strolled on, and the young nobleman followed, both keeping a profound silence till the inn and all the neighbouring objects were out of sight. When they had fully plunged into the valley, however, good Gandelot spoke, but still in a low voice, saying, "We are pretty safe here; the danger was up yonder."