only to the old witch, who had perished in shielding him unintentionally
in saving her grandchild, but to the latter. Fair as a sylph but
icy-hearted as a woman of five social seasons! But the son of the
guillotined wife-murderer should not be fastidious about those relatives
who deigned to recognize him.

The farmhouse was a large stone and brick structure, moss-grown but firm
as a castle; at its porch, three men had tranquilly awaited the result
of the conflict; most of the episodes had been observed by them. Two
were comfortably clothed like farmer and overseer, and showed a
respectful bearing to the third. This was a man of about thirty years,
but looking younger, tall, slender, elegant and proud. Not yet calm,
Clemenceau vaguely recalled the refined, winning, though dissipated
visage; this was the gentleman in the Harmonista who had enlightened him
unawares on the antecedents of Fraulein von Vieradlers. He did not
notice her companion but his stiffness disappeared as he bowed to her.
Without asking for any explanation on the affray, he said to her:

"Can he--your companion--ride? The horses are under saddle. If not--"

Clemenceau replied in the affirmative to Fraulein von Vieradlers,
instead of to the gentleman. He conceived an aversion to him on the
spot, although his intention to include him in the pre-arranged flight
was manifest. But he was the victim of circumstances and for the present
he had to yield. Besides, the prospect held out was for him to continue
beside the dazzling beauty, whose influence seemed more wide than her
deceased ancestress.

Like many bookworms, he had entertained a humiliating opinion of the
sex that makes the world move round; he was beginning to doubt, and he