"It cannot be impossible. Have I not paid half the post hire in advance?" "Monsieur can go on, in the morning. There is an auberge a little distance ahead, where he and madame can pass the night. I will find a smith and have the horse shod in time to set out early." "Are you sure it is the lameness of the horse, that moves you, or a desire to get indoors from the cold?" queried Dick. "Monsieur l'Anglois has the privilege of thinking as it may please him. Will he have me drive to the auberge, or will he remain here in the road all night?" "Let him drive to the auberge, for heaven's sake!" whispered Collette, somewhat terrified. The auberge, when reached, proved to be a miserable hut of three apartments,--stable, kitchen, and common sleeping-room. The host and his wife, visible by light of candle and by kitchen fire, were an evil-looking pair. "Oh," said Collette, drawing back from the doorway, "I can never stay here!" "There is no other place," said the postilion, with an impudent grin. "I will find another place," said Dick, beginning to feel ugly towards the postilion. "I see a light on the hill yonder. It comes from the window of a chateau. Such a house will not refuse us hospitality, my Collette! You will drive us to that house, fellow!" And Dick lifted Mademoiselle Collette into the carriage. "I will not drive one step!" said the postilion, insolently, with a careless crack of his whip. Dick looked at the fellow a moment, strode up to him, wrenched the whip from his hand by an unexpected movement, and struck him two quick blows across the face with it. "Drive us to that house!" said Dick. The postilion mounted, without a word, and Dick, retaining the whip, joined Collette inside the carriage. At the chateau, while Collette remained in the carriage, Dick got out to speak to the servant who opened the door in response to the postilion's knock. Dick so framed his message to the master of the house, that the latter himself came to the door, Dick remaining outside to guard Collette and the carriage. The master of the house, lighted by the candles in the entrance-hall, was an elderly gentleman, tall and slender, with a bright eye and a face at once kindly, distinguished, and intellectual. "Monsieur," said Dick, in as good French as he could command, "a circumstance has made it impossible for me to continue to-night a journey I began in that carriage a few hours ago. The only inn near at hand is one where it would be equally impossible for the lady whom I have the honor to protect, to pass the night. The lady is now in the carriage, and--"