Moreover, a definite purpose now formed in his mind, which purpose of itself called him Parisward. In the auberge at Samers, where Sir Hilary prolonged their stop to try thoroughly the wine of the country, Dick overheard a conversation between a voluble petit maitre and a short-gowned Capuchin monk, in which the name of Washington instantly caught his ear. He soon found that the talk was on the American war, and that the talkers sympathized with the Americans. He learned that a recent daring blow struck by Washington at Trenton, and another victory, won at Princeton, had offset the effect of the British occupation of New York and the British victories connected therewith. He learned, too, that Franklin, a name spoken with as great honor at this little French inn as at home, had come to France as an agent of the Americans, and was now with his fellow agent, Mr. Silas Deane, at the Hotel d'Hambourg, in the Rue l'Universite, in Paris. This news, at which Dick glowed inwardly, gave him the idea of offering his services to Franklin, to be used in any way and in any place proposable. That same day the fellow travellers rode on, over the undulating country of the Boulonnois, by woods and streams, to Montreuil, where they had to give their names to a polite guard officer at the gates; leaped from their horses at the sign of the Crown of France, paid their post, and took lodging for the night. Sir Hilary promptly ordered a roasted capon, a fricasseed hare, a wild duck, a salad, and a flask of Burgundy, the two gentlemen having chosen a table at a window. While they sat eating, they saw drive up to the inn a lumbering four-wheeled carriage, which let out a severe, stately, slender old lady, a demure-looking, black-eyed girl of seventeen, and a gaunt, gray-haired man-servant, in well-worn livery. Waiting while the old lady oversaw the removal of several ancient portmanteaus, the girl looked with indifferent curiosity at the inn. Her eyes, swiftly moving, met Dick's through the window, and rested a moment,--a moment only, but time sufficient to give him that sensation which fine eyes, so encountered, usually produce. The girl soon looked elsewhere, the old lady led the way into the inn, and the carriage moved off. Dick saw no more of the black-eyed girl that evening, yet he did not forget that she was under the same roof with him. The next morning, at breakfast, Sir Hilary raised the question as to what means of conveyance they should next take. At that moment, Dick saw the gray-haired man-servant taking out the ladies' luggage to the Paris diligence, which great, unshapely vehicle, drawn by gaunt horses, now stood before the door. "What conveyance?" echoed Dick. "How can you ask? Why, the diligence, of course!" And there was more haste than Sir Hilary saw the need of, in finishing the breakfast, paying the bill, and getting Sir Hilary's baggage down-stairs in time to make sure of not being left behind.