"Well, if you take post-horses, you will not reach Arras before to-morrow. We are on a cross-country road. The relays are badly served, and the horses are out at work. This is the ploughing season, and as strong teams are required, horses are taken anywhere, from the post-houses like the rest. You will have to wait three or four hours, sir, at each station, and only go at a foot-pace, for there are many hills to ascend." "Well, I will ride. Take the horse out. I suppose I can purchase a saddle here?" "Of course, but will this horse carry a saddle?" "No, I remember now that it will not." "In that case--" "But surely I can hire a saddle-horse in the village?" "What! to go to Arras without a break?" "Yes." "You would want a horse such as is not to be found in these parts. In the first place, you would have to buy it, as you are a stranger, but you would not find one to buy or hire for five hundred francs,--not for a thousand." "What is to be done?" "The best thing is to let me mend the wheel and put off your journey till to-morrow." "To-morrow will be too late." "Hang it!" "Is there not the Arras mail-cart? When does that pass?" "Not till to-night." "What! you will take a whole day in mending that wheel?" "An honest day." "Suppose you employed two workmen?" "Ay, if I had ten." "Suppose the spokes were tied with cords?" "What is to be done with the axle? Besides, the felloe is in a bad state." "Is there any one who lets out vehicles in the town?" "No." "Is there another wheelwright?" The ostler and the wheelwright replied simultaneously--, "No." He felt an immense joy, for it was evident that Providence was interfering. Providence had broken the tilbury wheel and stopped his journey. He had not yielded to this species of first summons; he had made every possible effort to continue his journey; he had loyally and scrupulously exhausted all resources; he had not recoiled before the season, fatigue, or expense; and he had nothing to reproach himself with. If he did not go farther, it did not concern him; it was not his fault, it was not the doing of his conscience, but of Providence. He breathed freely and fully for the first time since Javert's visit. He felt as if the iron hand which had been squeezing his heart for twenty hours had relaxed its grasp; God now appeared to be on his side, and declared Himself openly. He said to himself that he had done all in his power, and at present need only return home quietly.