are a league and a half from Pierrefitte, the next village."
"With only two horses that would take two hours. Just think if there is no refuge nearer."
"Taverney Castle is at hand, but it is not an inn."
"Not lived in?"
"Baron Taverney lives there – "
"What is he?"
"Father of Mademoiselle Andrea de Taverney – "
"Delighted to hear it," smilingly said the other: "but I want to know the kind of man he is."
"An old nobleman who used to be wealthy."
"An old story. My friend, please take me to Baron Taverney's."
"He does not receive company," said the youth, in apprehension.
"Not welcome a stray gentleman? He must be a bear."
"Much like it. I do not advise your risking it."
"Pooh! The bear will not eat me up alive."
"But he may keep the door closed."
"I will break it in; and unless you refuse to be my guide – "
"I do not; I will show the way."
The traveler took off the carriage lamp, which Gilbert held curiously in his hands.
"It has no light," he said.
"I have fire in my pocket."
"Pretty hard to get fire from flint and steel this weather," observed the youth.
But the other drew a silver case from his pocket, and opening the lid plunged a match into it; a flame sprang up and he drew out the match aflame. This was so sudden and unexpected by the youth, who only knew of tinder and the spark, and not of phosphorus, the toy of science at this period, that he started. He watched the magician restore the case to his pocket with greed. He would have given much to have the instrument.
He went on before with the lighted lamp, while his companion forced the horses to come by his hand on the bridle.
"You appear to know all about this Baron of Taverney, my lad!" he began the dialogue.
"I have lived on his estate since a child."
"Oh, your kinsman, tutor, master?"
At this word the youth's cheek colored up, though usually pale, and he quivered.
"I am no man's servant, sir," he retorted. "I am son of one who was a farmer for the baron, and my mother nursed Mademoiselle Andrea."
"I understand; you belong to the household as foster-brother of the young lady – I suppose she is young?"
"She is sixteen."
He had answered only one of the two questions, and not the one personal to him.
"How did you chance to be on the road in such weather?" inquired the other, making the same reflection as our own.
"I was not on the road, but in the cave, reading a book called 'The Social Contract,' by one Rousseau."
"Oh, found the book in the lord's library?" asked the gentleman with some astonishment.
"No, I bought it of a peddler who, like others of his trade, has been hawking good books hereabouts."
"Who told you 'The Contract' was a good book?"
"I found that out by reading it, in comparison with some infamous ones in the baron's library."
"The baron gets indecent books, always costly, in this hole?"
"He does not spend money on them as they are sent him from Paris by his friend the Marshal Duke of Richelieu."
"Oh! of course he does not let his daughter see such stuff?"
"He leaves them about, but Mademoiselle Andrea does not read them," rejoined the youth, drily.
The mocking traveler was briefly silent. He was interested in this singular character, in whom was blended good and evil, shame and boldness.
"How came you to read bad books?"
"I did not know what they were until read; but I kept on as they taught me what I was unaware of. But 'The Contract' told me what I had guessed, that all men are brothers, society badly arranged, and that instead of being serfs and slaves, individuals are equal."
"Whew!" whistled the gentleman, as they went on. "You seem to be hungry to learn?"
"Yes, it is my greatest wish to know everything, so as to rise – "
"To what station?"
Gilbert paused, for having a goal in his mind, he wanted to keep it hidden.
"As far as man may go," he answered.
"So you have studied?"
"How study when I was not rich and was cooped up in Taverney? I can read and write; but I shall learn the rest somehow one of these days."
"An odd boy," thought the stranger.
During the quarter of an hour they had trudged on, the rain had ceased, and the earth sent up the sharp tang replacing the sulphurous breath of the thunderstorms.
"Do you know what storms are?" questioned Gilbert, after deep musing.
"Thunder and lightning are the result of a shock between the electricity in the air and in the earth," he said, smiling.
"I do not follow you," sighed Gilbert.
The traveler might have supplied a more lucid explanation but a light glimmered through the trees.
"That is the carriage-gateway of Taverney," said the guide.
"Open it."
"Taverney gate does not open so easily as that."
"Is it a fort? Knock, and louder than that!"
Thus emboldened, the boy dropped the knocker and hung on to the bell, which clanged so lustily that it might be heard afar.
"That is Mahon barking," said the youth.
"Mahon? He names his watchdog after a victory of his friend my Lord Richelieu, I see," remarked the traveler.
"I did not know that. You see how ignorant I am," sighed Gilbert.
These sighs summed up the disappointments and repressed ambition of the youth.
"That is the goodman Labrie coming," said the latter at the sound of footsteps within.
The door opened, but at the sight of the stranger the old servant wanted to slam it.
"Excuse me, friend," interposed the traveler; "don't shut the door in my face. I will risk my travel-stained garb, and I warrant you that I shall not be
