were swelling to gigantic size, and were also
surrounded with numerous rapidly revolving
wheels of a light structure, like Catherine-
wheels previous to ignition. It also appeared
to me that when I spoke to my dog, my voice
had a curious sound, and my words were very
imperfectly articulated.

It would happen, too, that when I looked
towards the glass-doors, my landlord was there,
peering at me through the muslin curtains: or
the horrid little girl would enter, with no obvious
intention, and having loitered for a little time
about the room, would leave it again. At length
the landlord himself came in, and coolly walking
up to the table at which I was seated, glanced
at the hardly tasted wine before me.

"It would appear that the wine of the country
is not to your taste," he said.

"It is good enough," I answered, as
carelessly as I could; the words sounding to me as if
they were uttered inside the cupola of St. Paul's,
and were conveyed by iron tubes to the place
I occupied.

I was in a strange state—perfectly conscious,
but imperfectly able to control my thoughts, my
words, my actions. I believe my landlord stood
staring down at me as I sat staring up at him,
and watching the Catherine-wheels as they
revolved round his eyes and nose and chin—
Gentlemen, they seemed absolutely to fizz when
they got to the scar on his cheek.

At this time a noisy party entered the main
room of the auberge, which I have described as
being visible through the glass-doors, and the
landlord had to leave me for a time, to go and
attend to them. I think I must have fallen
into a slight and strongly-resisted doze, and that
when I started out of it, it was in consequence
of the violent barking of my terrier. The landlord
was in the room; he was just unlocking
the cupboard from which the little girl had
taken the paper parcel. He took out just such
another paper parcel, and returned again through
the doors. As he did so, I remember stupidly
wondering what had become of the little girl.
Presently his evil face appeared again at the
door.

"I am going to prepare the coffee," said the
landlord; "perhaps monsieur will like it better
than the wine."

As the man disappeared, I started suddenly
and violently upon my feet. I could deceive
myself no longer. My thoughts were like
lightning. "The wine having been taken in so
small a quantity and so profusely mixed with
water, has done its work (as this man can see)
but imperfectly. The coffee will finish that work.
He is now preparing it. The cupboard, the
little parcel—there can be no doubt. I will
leave this place while I yet can. Now or never;
if those men whose voices I hear in the other
room leave the house it will be too late. With
so many witnesses, no attempt can be made to
prevent my departure. I will not sleep—I will
act—I will force my muscles to their work, and
get away from this place."

Gentlemen; in compensation for a set of
nerves of distressing sensitiveness, I have
received from nature a remarkable power of
controlling my nerves for a time. I staggered to
the door, closing it after me more violently than
I had intended, and descended—the fresh air
making me feel very giddy—into the yard.

As I went down the steps, I saw the truculent
little girl of whom I have already spoken
entering the yard, followed by a blackmith,
carrying a hammer and some other implements
of his trade. Catching sight of me, the little
girl spoke quickly to the blacksmith, and in an
instant they both changed their course, which
was directed towards the stable, and entered an
outhouse on the other side of the yard. The
thought entered my head that this man had been
sent for to drive a nail into my horse's foot, so
that in the event of the drugged wine failing I
might still be unable to proceed. This horrible
idea added new force to my exertions. I seized
the shafts of my carriage and commenced
dragging it out of the yard and round to the front
of the house: feeling that if it was once in the
highway, there would be less possibility of offering
any impediment to my starting. I am conscious
of having fallen twice to the ground, in
my struggles to get the carriage out of the yard.
Next, I hastened to the stable. My mare was
still harnessed, with the exception of the headstall.
I managed to get the bit into her mouth,
and dragged her to the place where I had left the
carriage. After I know not how many efforts
to place the docile beast in the shafts—for I was
as incapable of calculating distances as a drunken
man—I recollect, but how I know not, securing
the assistance of the boy I had seen. I was
making a final effort to fasten the trace to its
little pin, when a voice behind me said:

"Are you going away without drinking your
coffee?'

I turned round and saw my landlord standing
close beside me. He was watching my bungling
efforts to secure the harness, but he made no
movement to assist me.

"I do not want any coffee," I answered.

"No coffee, and no wine! It would appear
that the gentleman is not a great drinker. You
have not given your horse much of a rest," he
added, presently.

"I am in haste. What have I to pay?"

"You will take something else," said the
landlord; "a glass of brandy before starting in
the wet?"

"No, nothing more. What have I to pay?"

"You will at least come in for an instant, and
warm your feet at the stove."

"No. Tell me at once how much I am to
pay."

Baffled in all his efforts to get me again into
the house, my detested landlord had nothing for
it but to answer my demand.

"Four litres of oats," he muttered, "a half-
truss of hay, breakfast, wine, coffee" he
emphasised the last two words with a malignant
grin—"seven francs fifty centimes."

My mare was by this time somehow or other
buckled into the shafts, and now I had to get