"I know no better than you," he replied with a shrug.
"Pardon, Monsieur; I think you will find the better inn at Montoire," put in a voice behind my shoulder. I turned and saw, seated on a stool with his back to the wall, a bright-looking, well-made young fellow who might, from his dress, have been a lawyer's clerk, or the son of a tradesman, but with rather a more out-of-doors appearance than is usually acquired in an office or shop.
"Ah," said I, "you know those towns, then?"
"I live at Montoire," said he, interestedly, as if glad to get into conversation. "There is a fine public square there, you will see."
"But it is rather a long ride before dinner, isn't it?"
"Only about five leagues. I shall ride there for dinner to-morrow, at all events."
"You are returning home, then?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"Have you been far away?"
"That is as one may think," he replied after a moment's hesitation, during which he seemed to decide it best to evade the question. His travels were none of my business, and I cared not how secretive he might be upon them. But to teach him a lesson in openness, I said: