"Monsieur Cordel no doubt transacts his private business for him."
"No doubt," said Jacques, with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I did not like his appearance, and if we could spare the time I would ride back to discover what made Pierre suddenly dumb. I warrant he misliked his questioner; but if the stranger is seeking information, he can obtain all he wants from Cordel."
"You are no friend to the advocate, Jacques!"
"He is a spy, monsieur, and a maker of mischief. One of these days men will learn his true character."
"I have no liking for Cordel," I said, "but still all this has nothing to do with our errand."
"Perhaps not, monsieur; we will hope not," replied my companion, "but all the same, I wish we had started an hour earlier."
Honestly I felt rather inclined to laugh at Jacques' vague fears, for the stranger's pleasant speech and affable manner had impressed me, and I could not think of him in any other light than that of a courteous and gallant gentleman. In spite of wise saws, one is often tempted to believe that occasionally fine feathers make fine birds.
We rode on steadily, stopping for an hour or two during the hottest part of the day, and putting up late at night at a dilapidated inn in a half-deserted village. The landlord, a bent, feeble, old man, had gone to bed, but he set about preparing some supper, while, since there was no ostler, we fed and groomed the animals ourselves.
"We must start at daybreak," said Jacques, when we had finished our meal; "that will give us four hours' sleep."
"Fourteen would suit me better!" I laughed, as we followed our host to the guest-chamber, and, indeed, I was so thoroughly tired that my head scarcely touched the pillow before I was sound asleep.