"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.
The provost proceeded half a league farther along the road; but coming to the conclusion that pursuit was useless, he sent one of his men to headquarters, to warn all the points of exit from the province, and himself returned with his troop to the place whence he had started in the morning. The marquis had relatives in the neighbourhood, and it was quite possible that he might seek shelter with some of them. All the village ran to meet the horsemen, who were obliged to confess that they had been duped by the handsome prisoner. Different views were expressed on the event, which gave rise to much talking. The provost entered the inn, banging his fist on the furniture, and blaming everybody for the misfortune which had happened to him. The daughter of the house, at first a prey to the most grievous anxiety, had great difficulty in concealing her joy.
The provost spread his papers over the table, as if to nurse his ill-temper.
"The biggest rascal in the world!" he cried; "I ought to have suspected him."