give him no confidence in me. He kept on, laboring hard and
breathing heavily, as if I were a ton's weight. We came to another
clearing and fields of corn. A little out of the woods, and near
the road, was a log house white-washed from earth to eaves. By the
gate my horse went down. I tumbled heavily in the road, and
turning, caught him by the bits. The big hat had shot off my head;
the straw had fallen away. A woman came running out of the open
door. She had bare feet, a plump and cheery face.

"Tonnerre!" said she. "Qu'est ce que cela?"

"My countrywoman," said I, in French, feeling in my under-trousers
for a bit of silver, and tossing it to her, "I am hungry."

"And I have no food to sell," said she, tossing it back. "You
should know I am of France and not of England. Come, you shall
have enough, and for no price but the eating. You have a tired
horse. Take him to the stable, and I will make you a meal."

I led my horse to the stable, scraped him of lather and dirt, gave
him a swallow of water, and took the same myself, for I had a
mighty thirst in me. When I came in, she had eggs and potatoes and
bacon over the fire, and was filling the tea-kettle.

"On my soul," said she, frankly, "you are the oddest-looking man I
ever saw. Tell me, why do you carry the long club?"

I looked down. There it was under my arm. It surprised me more
than anything I ever found myself doing.