"Yes, some wine; is there anything surprising in that?"
"No, monsieur," replied Owen.
And he transmitted the order for a second bottle of wine to the waiter. Gaston poured out a glass, drank it, then a second.
Owen stared.
Then, thinking it both his duty and his interest to prevent his master's finishing the bottle—
"Monsieur," said he, "I have heard that if you are riding, it is bad to drink when it is very cold. You forgot that we have a long way to go, and that it will be getting still colder, and, if we wait much longer, we shall get no post-horses. It is nearly three o'clock, now, and at half-past four it will be dark."
This behavior surprised Gaston.
"You are in a very great hurry, Owen," said he; "have you a rendezvous with the man who was asking his way of you?"
"Monsieur knows that to be impossible," replied Owen, "since he is going to Rennes, and we to Paris."
However, under the scrutinizing gaze of his master, Owen turned red, when suddenly, at the sound of wheels, Gaston ran to the window. It was the dark carriage.