While I was in this state, it would seem that the proprietor of the wain had come hither, yoked thereto a pair of horses, and, all unconscious that there was anything else there than straw, forage for the cavalry of the most Christian King--least of all a "sacré-Anglais"--in the wain, drove leisurely and quietly off, I knew not whither, as I neither stirred nor woke. CHAPTER III. HUSSARS AGAIN. Evening had come on before I was awake, and, on looking upward, saw above me the green leafy branches of some great trees. Then, on peeping from my nest amid the straw, I found, to my very great astonishment, that the wain was not in the same place where I had entered it, but that it was now at the end of a long and stately avenue, and close to an embattled wall, in which there opened an arched gateway surmounted by a coat of arms carved in stone. I was about to investigate this circumstance further, when the sound of voices near me, or apparently immediately under the huge wain, made me shrink down and lie still and breathless to listen. "Come, come, _mon ami_, don't lose your temper, for I assure you that you have none to spare," said a female voice. "Bah! you always laugh when I kiss you, Angelique," replied a man, reproachfully; "why is this?" "Because, Jacquot, your moustaches tickle me." "You are always rather too ticklish between the nose and chin," retorted the other. "Perhaps so, when Monsieur de Boisguiller and his hussars are here." "_Pardieu_, if this be the case, then I shall go back to St. Malo, to dine with the fat cits and dance with their pretty daughters." "You? Ha! ha!" "Laugh as you may, mademoiselle: the coachman of Monsieur le Curé of St. Solidore, who holds the consciences of half the province in his keeping, is not without some importance at St. Malo, be assured." "_Que cons êtes bon!_ (what a simpleton you are!) Kiss me and say nothing more." A certain remarkable sound followed; then the lovers, apparently reconciled, passed through the archway, and I could perceive that the man was no other than Jacquot Tricot, who had driven the _d'esobligeant_ of the old Curé of St. Solidore, and that his companion was a pretty and piquant young Bretonne, with fine features and coal-black eyes, and having her dark hair dressed back _à la marquise_, under a tall white cap of spotless linen. She wore a tight red bodice, with its armholes so large that at the back only an inch or two of the stuff remained between the shoulders; but under this she had a pretty habit-shirt, which fully displayed the swelling form of her fine bust and shoulders. Her ample but short black skirt, embroidered with silver, announced, after the Breton custom, that she was not altogether dowerless, and by her high instep, smart ankle, and taper leg, no one could doubt that Angelique was a charming dancer.