scared a stray cat or two that were preying out of doors. There was
no watch in the little township and no lights, but by the moon's
faint glimmer Garnache sought the inn of the Beau Paon, and found
it at the end of a little wandering. A gaudy peacock, with tail
spread wide, was the sign above the door on which he thumped and
kicked as if he would have beaten it down.

It opened after some delay, and a man, half clad, candle in hand, a
night-cap on his hoary locks, showed an angry face at the opening.

At sight of the gaunt, bedraggled figure that craved admittance,
the landlord would have shut the door again, fearing that he had to
do with some wild bandit from the hills. But Garnache thrust his
foot in the way.

"There is a man named Rabecque, from Paris, lodging here. I must
have instant speech with him," said he; and his words, together
with the crisp, commanding tones in which they were uttered, had
their effect upon the host.

Rabecque had been playing the great lord during the week he had
spent at Voiron, and had known how to command a certain deference
and regard. That this tatterdemalion, with the haughty voice,
should demand to see him at that hour of the night, with such scant
unconcern of how far he might incommode the great Monsieur Rabecque,
earned for him too a certain measure of regard, though still alloyed
with some suspicion.

The landlord bade him enter. He did not know whether Monsieur
Rabecque would forgive him for being disturbed; he could not say