"You are right to propose to remain here; it's a beautiful country."
"Not always though! At this moment, for instance, it's none too pleasant; the weather is venting its spite, and it will be bad all night."
"Do you think so?"
"I am sure of it. If you follow the valley of the Creuse you'll have the storm for company till to-morrow noon, but I fancy that you didn't start out so late without expecting to find shelter near at hand?"
"To tell you the truth, I am inclined to think that the place I am going to is farther away than I supposed at first. I fancied that they tried to keep me at Eguzon by exaggerating the distance and the bad condition of the roads; but I see, from the little progress I have made in an hour, that they hardly overstated it."
"Not to be inquisitive, where might you be going?"
"To Gargilesse. How far do you call it?"
"Not far, monsieur, if you could see where you are going; but, if you don't know the country, it will take you all night; for what you see from here is nothing in comparison with the break-neck places you have to descend to go from the ravine of La Creuse to that of Gargilesse, and you risk your life to boot."
"Well, my friend, will you undertake to guide me, for a good round sum?"
"No, monsieur, thank you."