As soon as he had got it his rage broke forth in the most violent abuse of England and Englishmen. Everything that his fancy could invent in the way of vituperation was poured upon us, the more especially as he perceived that it highly amused a crowd of French _laquais_ and postilions, who had nothing better to do than to look on. I let him proceed as long as he pleased, and then, as he was going to mount his horse, and ride away, I stopped him; desired the postmaster to produce his register, took a pen from the ink, and was about to inscribe my complaint in form. But now the whole scene was changed; nothing was heard but prayers and entreaties that I would give up my design. The postmaster gently opposed my approach to the book. The postmaster's wife took hold of the skirts of my coat; and assured me that the "boy was ruined" if I insisted. "Utterly ruined," echoed the postmaster. He was "_bon garcon_," some of the neighbours said, "but _mauvaise tête_." I replied, that his _mauvaise tête_ must be corrected, and made a show of insisting; but now they became clamorous. Could I have the heart, they asked, to throw him for ever out of bread? I said that if that were the consequence perhaps I might not. They assured me it was, that he would never be employed again, and used so many arguments, that I had a good opportunity of relinquishing what I had scarcely intended seriously; and, with a very grave admonition, suffered our youth to ride away. Of all the wretched places that ever poor traveller was tormented in, the most wretched is that inn at Aire. No dinner was to be got, for all that was in the house had been given to the English family we had seen arrive. No milk was to be had for our tea. Only one bed-room was vacant, with two dirty beds, filth, fleas, bugs, and a bad smell. However, here we laid down in our clothes; but no sooner were we asleep than we were galloped over by the vermin in every direction--it was like a charge of light horse. At length, with the morning came the happy news that there were horses; and away we went towards Pau. I can fancy a Catholic soul getting out of purgatory nearly as happy as we were to leave Aire. We now met a great many of the peasantry, men and women, riding the short mountain horses. The features of the people, as well as the scenery, were here very different from what they had been in the neighbourhood of Bordeaux, and all showed that we were entering Bearn. Here, as in many other parts of France, no such thing is thought of as a side-saddle for a woman, who rides exactly like a man, and very frequently quite as well. I once knew a lady in Brittany, who, both for mustachios and horsemanship, would have done admirably for a cavalry officer.