To this I readily assented, telling the postillion that my reaching Strasbourg the next day an hour or two later would be perfectly immaterial. He thanked me, and then leaving the cottage with Stephano, put up his horses in the woodman’s stable. Baptiste followed them to the door, and looked out with anxiety.

“ ’Tis a sharp biting wind!” said he; “I wonder, what detains my boys so long! Monsieur, I shall show you two of the finest lads that ever stepped in shoe of leather. The eldest is three and twenty, the second a year younger: their equals for sense, courage, and activity, are not to be found within fifty miles of Strasbourg. Would they were back again! I begin to feel uneasy about them.”

Marguerite was at this time employed in laying the cloth.

“And are you equally anxious for the return of your sons?” said I to her.

“Not I!” she replied peevishly; “They are no children of mine.”