Peasants are rarely distrustful; the occupants of the cottage, being very poor, had no fear of thieves. They opened the door, and I saw a peasant woman in a large living room, surrounded by half a dozen children. I explained our mishap, while Raymond, who had already entered the room, peered into a great kettle to see what the peasants had for supper, then came back to me and informed me that we shouldn't find much of anything in that house. "What can I do for you, messieurs?" said the peasant, as she watched Raymond prying into every corner. "Are we far from Montmorency?" "No; a fourth of a league at most." "We don't know the roads about here; be good enough to let us have your biggest boy for a guide; we will pay you." As I spoke, I gave the woman three francs, which instantly disposed her to make herself useful to us. "That's easy enough," she said; "Julien, go with these gentlemen.--If you're tired, I can let you have some donkeys." "We shall be very glad of them, for, first of all, we must find our groom, who must be somewhere in the neighborhood; and then we will try to rescue our horse, for he ought not to pass the night in the fields." "Come, Julien, get the donkeys out of the stable.--I ought to tell you that there's no saddles for 'em." "No matter; they will be very useful to us all the same." The donkeys were produced, and I paid on the spot for their hire; I took a third one, for our groom, whom I hoped to find. Raymond hesitated a long while before mounting his beast; he wanted saddle, stirrups, and pads; he claimed to be able to ride like Franconi, but he could not sit on a donkey. Tired to death by all his lamentations, I started off with the young peasant, who rode the third donkey, and set out to find the groom. Raymond, seeing that I had ceased to listen to him, decided to follow me, clinging with one hand to the tail and with the other to the mane of his steed. He urged the poor beast along in my wake, and we were in the fields once more. I let my donkey take his own course. I called the groom at the top of my lungs, and my companions did the same. At last someone answered us; we rode in the direction of the voice and found our young man lying on the ground, under a tree. The poor devil had sprained his foot and could not walk. I put him on the peasant's donkey. It only remained for us to unharness our horse, whom we found on the ground beside the cabriolet. The rain had allayed the poor beast's ardor, and he finally allowed us to raise him to his feet. Our guide assured us that he was uninjured; he mounted him, took his place at our head, and the cavalcade set out for Montmorency.