I forgot, while I avowed these things, that one weakness of Parabere's character which rendered him unable to believe evil of anyone. Even of Bareilles, though the two were the merest acquaintances, he could only think indulgently, because, forsooth, he too was a Protestant. He began to defend him therefore, and, seeing how the ground lay, after a time I let the matter drop. Still I did not think that he had been serious in his plea, and that which happened on the following morning took me completely by surprise. We had left Crozant an hour, and I was considering whether, the road being bad, we should even now reach Gueret before night, when Parabere, who had made some excuse to ride forward, returned, to me with signs of embarrassment in his manner. "My friend," he said, "here is a message from Bareilles." "How?" I exclaimed. "A message? For whom?" "For you," he said; "the man is here." "But how did Bareilles know that I was coming?" I asked. Parabere's confusion furnished me with the answer before he spoke. "Do not be angry, my friend," he said. "I wanted to do Bareilles a good turn. I saw that you were enraged with him, and I thought that I could not help him better than by suggesting to him to come and meet you in a proper spirit, and make the explanations which I am sure that he has it in his power to make. Yesterday morning, therefore, I sent to him." "And he is here?" I said drily. Parabere admitted with a blush that he was not. His messenger had found Bareilles on the point of starting against a band of plunderers who had ravaged the country for a twelvemonth. He had sent me the most; civil messages therefore--but he had not come. "However, he will be at Gueret to-morrow," Parabere added cheerfully. "Will he?" I said. "I will answer for it," he answered. "In the meantime, he has done what he can for our comfort." "How?" I said, "He bids us not to attempt the last three leagues to Gueret to-night; the road is too bad. But to stay at Saury, where there is a good inn, and to-morrow morning he will meet us there." "If the brigands have not proved too much for him," I said. "Yes," Parabere answered, with a simplicity almost supernatural. "To be sure." After this, it was no use to say anything to him, though his officiousness would have justified the keenest reproaches. I swallowed my resentment, therefore, and we went on amicably enough, though the valley of the Creuse, in its upper and wilder part, through which our road now wound, offered no objects of a kind to soften my anger against the governor. I saw enough of ruins, of blocked defiles, and overgrown roads; but of returning prosperity and growing crops, and the King's peace, I saw no sign--not so much as one dead robber.