This point being finally settled, after much wrangling, we sat down to our meal, and the two strangers gradually became more friendly. It appeared they were on their way to Vouziers, but, foreseeing the storm, had turned back to seek shelter. Thus far I had seen nothing of Pillot, but, remembering his advice, I asked the innkeeper if he had a horse for sale or hire, explaining that I wished to leave early in the morning for Mezieres. "I have none of my own, monsieur; horses are scarce in these parts since the troubles began; but there is one in the stables which belongs to a poor traveller who might sell it." "Is it a good one?" "Monsieur can judge for himself, but I do not think monsieur will care to ride it." "Captain," said I, "will you come with me? You know more about a horse than I." "Certainly," he exclaimed, jumping up. "Bring a lantern, landlord; we will go at once." There were five horses in the stables--those of the captain and the two strangers, my own which was in a state of prostration, and a thin long-legged beast whose body was composed of skin and ribs. On seeing this uncouth animal, the captain said with a laugh, "_Ma foi_, M. de Lalande, you would make a pretty picture riding into Mezieres on this brute. _Peste!_ Let us return to the fire." I asked where the owner was, and the innkeeper replied, "Somewhere in the village, monsieur, endeavouring to sell his goods." "Is it not possible to obtain a decent animal anywhere?" I inquired. "I will do my best," he answered, holding up the lantern to guide our steps as Courcy and I returned to the inn. "It is a nuisance," exclaimed the captain, warming his hands at the fire, "but I fear you will have to stay here over to-morrow. If my business were not so urgent----" "Oh, the landlord may find an animal by the morning, especially as I am prepared to pay a good price." "Monsieur makes a thrust there," remarked one of the strangers; "one can do most things with a full purse. After all, it will only be a delay of a few hours or so." We sat a long time listening to the storm, which, after a lull, had broken out with redoubled fury, and once or twice I detected a stealthy exchange of glances between Captain Courcy and the two travellers. Thus far their plans had worked out beautifully; I was, to all appearance, entirely in their power, and it would be easy for them during the night to abstract the note. The one point in my favour was that they believed I knew nothing of the plot, and I took pains not to undeceive them. I laughed at the captain's jokes, and applauded his stories, though half expecting every moment to hear him say, "And now, M. de Lalande, I will trouble you for that slip of paper."