"There's something lying there," said Seth, whose eyes were suddenly
focused on the ground, and then he dismounted quickly. "It's a man,
Master Richard, and by the Lord! he's had rough treatment."

Barrington quieted his horse with soothing words, and dismounting,
tethered him to a gate.

"He's not dead," Seth said, as Barrington bent over him; and as if to
endorse his words, the man moved slightly and groaned.

"We can't leave him, but--"

"But we shall not reach Paris to-night," Seth returned. "Didn't they
tell us we should pass by a village? I have forgotten the name."

"Trémont," said Richard.

"It can't be much farther. There's no seeing to find out his injuries
here, but if you could help to get him over the saddle in front of me,
Master Richard, I could take him along slowly."

A feeble light glimmered presently along the road, which proved to be
the light from a tavern which stood at one end of the village, a rough
and not attractive house of entertainment, a fact that the neighbors
seemed to appreciate, for no sound came from it.

"Those who attacked him may be there, Master Richard, refreshing
themselves after their dastardly work."

"They must be saying silent prayers of repentance, then. Stay in the