This lasted some time, till one villager after another, having exhausted every excuse for staying to hear whether the stranger would open his lips, dropped away in his turn, and left the apartment vacant. It was then, and not till then, that mine host was somewhat surprised, by hearing the silent traveller pronounce in a most audible and imperative manner, "Gaultier, come here." The first cause of astonishment was to hear him speak at all; and the next to find his own proper name of Gaultier so familiar to the stranger, forgetting that it had been vociferated at least one hundred times that night in his presence. However, Gaultier obeyed the summons with all speed, and approaching the stranger with a low reverence, begged to know his good will and pleasure. "Your wine is good, Gaultier," said the stranger, raising his clear grey eyes to the rosy round of Gaultier's physiognomy. Even an innkeeper is susceptible of flattery; and Gaultier bent his head down towards the ground, as if he were going to do kou-tou. "Gaultier, bring me another bottle," said the stranger. This phrase was better than the former; that sort of substantial flattery that goes straight to an innkeeper's heart. Truly, it is a pity that innkeepers are such selfish beings. And yet it is natural too;--so rapidly does mankind pass by them, that theirs can be, at best, but a stage-coach sort of affection for their fellow-creatures--The coachman shuts the door--Drive on!--and it is all over. Thus, my dear Sir, the gaieties, the care, and the bustle in which you and I live, render our hearts but as an inn, where many a traveller stays for an hour, pays his score, and is forgotten.--I am resolved to let mine upon lease.---- The bottle of wine was not long in making its appearance; and as Gaultier set it on the table before the stranger, he asked if he could serve him farther. "Can you show me the way to the old Chateau of St. Loup?" demanded the stranger. "Surely, I can, Sir," replied the innkeeper; "that is to say, as far as knowing where it is. But I hope Monsieur does not mean to-night." "Indeed do I," answered the stranger; "and pray why not? The night is the same as the day to an honest man." "No doubt, no doubt!" exclaimed Gaultier, with the greatest doubt in the world in his own mind.--"No doubt! But, Holy Virgin! Jesu preserve us!"--and he signed the cross most devoutly--"we all know that there are spirits, and demons, and astrologers, and the Devil, and all those sort of things; and I would not go through the Grove where old Père Le Rouge, the sorcerer, was burnt alive, not to be prime minister, or the Cardinal de Richelieu, or any other great man,--that is to say, after nightfall. In the day I would go anywhere, or do any thing,--I am no coward, Sir,--I dare do any thing. My father served in the blessed League against the cursed Huguenots--so I am no coward;--but bless you, Sir, I will tell you how it happened, and then you will see--"