"Who is that?" asked the traveller, leaning toward the driver as the cavalcade passed on.
"A beautiful woman," was the slow answer.
The driver cracked his whip and the diligence began to rattle over the cobbles again.
"Some day she may be Duchess," he said, as though he was following his own train of thought rather than answering his companion's question.
There was no time to tempt him into being more explicit, for the horses turned a corner sharply, and with a shake of their harness stopped before a long, low building, on which the traveller could just decipher the words, Hôtel de la Croix Verte. It was an old house, redolent of the past, the lights within shining but faintly through the small windows. Its upper story projected over the narrow footway, and its lower walls bulged outward, as though they had grown tired of the load they had had to bear so long. Its age seemed to have infected its inhabitants, too, for some moments elapsed before the door opened, and a man came out leisurely to receive the parcels which the diligence had brought. That it had brought a traveller also did not excite him, nor was he in any hurry to welcome him. Perhaps the traveller was half dreaming, for he almost started when the man turned and spoke to him.
"Yes; it's a long journey," he answered, "and I am ready to do justice to the best you have."
He followed the landlord along a narrow passage and up a twisting staircase.
"The best room," said the landlord as he opened a door and lit a candle. "There's no one else staying in the house. Strangers do not come much to Vayenne."
"No?" said the traveller interrogatively.
"No," returned the landlord. "It's not an easy journey, and, besides, what can strangers want in Vayenne? By your accent you'll be----"
"Well, to what extent does my accent betray me?" asked the traveller, with a smile.
"Englishman," said the traveller--"Roger Herrick by name, a casual visitor who may be interested enough to stay in Vayenne some time."
The landlord nodded, as though he were not surprised at anything an Englishman might do, and went out promising an excellent dinner forthwith.
"So I am in Vayenne at last!" Herrick exclaimed as he glanced around the old room, pleased with its panelled walls and low, beamed ceiling. "In Vayenne! I hardly thought when the time came that the fact would impress me so much."