road to the Bourbonnais, and flung him a crown.  The man took the crown and pointed out the road, but he seemed hardly to know what he was saying, and stared at the marquis in a strange manner.  The marquis shouted to him to get out of the way; but the peasant remained planted on the roadside without stirring an inch.  The marquis advanced with threatening looks, and asked how he dared to stare at him like that.

“The reason is,” said the peasant, “that you have——­“, and he pointed to his shoulder and his ruff.

The marquis glanced at his dress, and saw that his coat was dabbled in blood, which, added to the disorder of his clothes and the dust with which he was covered, gave him a most suspicious aspect.

“I know,” said he.  “I and my servant have been separated in a scuffle with some drunken Germans; it’s only a tipsy spree, and whether I have got scratched, or whether in collaring one of these fellows I have drawn some of his blood, it all arises from the row.  I don’t think I am hurt a bit.”  So saying, he pretended to feel all over his body.

“All the same,” he continued, “I should not be sorry to have a wash; besides, I am dying with thirst and heat, and my horse is in no better case.  Do you know where I can rest and refresh myself?”

The peasant offered to guide him to his own house, only a few yards off.  His wife and children, who were working, respectfully stood aside, and went to collect what was wanted—­wine, water, fruit, and a large piece of black bread.  The marquis sponged his coat, drank a glass of wine, and called the people of the house, whom he questioned in an indifferent manner.  He once more informed himself of the different roads leading into the Bourbonnais province, where he was going to visit a relative; of the villages, cross roads, distances; and finally he spoke of the country, the harvest, and asked what news there was.

The peasant replied, with regard to this, that it was surprising to hear of disturbances on the highway at this moment, when it was patrolled by detachments of mounted police, who had just made an important capture.

“Who is that?—­” asked the marquis.

“Oh,” said the peasant, “a nobleman who has done a lot of mischief in the country.”

“What! a nobleman in the hands of justice?”

“Just so; and he stands a good chance of losing his head.”

“Do they say what he has done?”

“Shocking things; horrid things; everything he shouldn’t do.  All the province is exasperated with him.”

“Do you know him?”

“No, but we all have his description.”

As this news was not encouraging, the marquis, after a few more questions, saw to his horse, patted him, threw some more money to the peasant, and disappeared in the direction pointed out.