"Monsieur—I saw them! They chased me—the Uhlans with their spears and devilish yellow horses."
"Where?" demanded Jack, with an incredulous shrug.
"I had been to Forbach, where my cousin Passerat is a miner in the coal-mines. This morning I left to drive to Saint-Lys, having in my wagon these sacks of coal that my cousin Passerat procured for me, à prix réduit. It would take all day; I did not care—I had bread and red wine—you understand, my cousin Passerat and I, we had been gay in Saint-Avold, too—dame! we see each other seldom. I may have had more eau-de-vie than another—it is permitted on fête-days! Monsieur, I was tired—I possibly slept—the road was hot. Then something awakes me; I rub my eyes—behold me awake!—staring dumfounded at what? Parbleu!—at two ugly Uhlans sitting on their yellow horses on a hill! 'No! no!' I cry to myself; 'it is impossible!' It is a bad dream! Dieu de Dieu! It is no dream! My Uhlans come galloping down the hill; I hear them bawling 'Halt! Wer da!' It is terrible! 'Passerat!' I shriek, 'it is the hour to vanish!'"
The man paused, overcome by emotions and eau-de-vie.
"Well," said Jack, "go on!"
"And I am here, monsieur," ended the peasant, hazily.
"Passerat, you said you had taken too much eau-de-vie?" suggested Jack, with a smile of encouragement.
"Much? Monsieur, you do not believe me?"
"I believe you had a dream."
"Bon," said the peasant, "I want no more such dreams."