"By the way," said D'Alvimar to Guillaume, as the bell-tower of La Motte-Seuilly appeared on the horizon, "you have not told me where you are going. Does that château belong to another of your friends who would, doubtless, think me an intruder?" "Yonder château is the home of a young and lovely woman, who lives there with her father, and they will both receive you courteously. They will keep you until evening, not only in order not to be deprived of the company of Monsieur de Bois-Doré, whom they esteem very highly, but also to prove to you that we are not savages in our poor country province, and that we know how to practise hospitality in the old French way." D'Alvimar replied that he had no manner of doubt of it, and succeeded in making some other courteous remarks to his companion, for no man was ever better taught; but his bitter thoughts soon turned to another subject. "According to what you have told me of this Bois-Doré, my host that is to be," he said, "he is an old mannikin, I should judge, whose vassals enjoy themselves to their hearts' content?" "No," replied Monsieur d'Ars. "Those gypsies interrupted me. I was about to tell you that, when he returned to the country, wealthy and bemarquised, people were surprised to find that he was as brave as a lion, despite his mild aspect, and that, while he had some laughable foibles, he also had some Christian virtues which are a very comfortable possession for a man." "Do you reckon temperance and chastity among your Christian virtues?" "Why not, I pray you?" "Because that housekeeper with the glowing mane, whom we saw at the gate of his domain, seemed to me something lusty for so demure a man." "Evil to him who evil thinks!" rejoined Guillaume, with a smile. "I would not take my oath that our marquis was altogether insensible to the cajoleries of Queen Catherine's maids of honor; but that was a long while ago! I am strongly of the opinion that you could tell Bellinde about it without offending her or causing her pain. But here we are. I need not tell you that such subjects are not in season here. Our fair widow, Madame de Beuvre, is no prude, but at her age and in her position----" Our friends rode over the drawbridge, which, in view of the tranquil state of the province, was lowered all day; the portcullis was closed. Thus they rode, without hindrance or ceremony, into the courtyard of the manor, where they dismounted. "One moment!" said Sciarra d'Alvimar to Guillaume, as they were about to enter the house; "do not, I beg you, mention my name here, on account of the servants." "Neither here nor elsewhere," Monsieur d'Ars replied. "You have almost no foreign accent; so there is no need to say that you are Spanish. For which of my friends in Paris do you wish me to pass you off?"