But the instinct of an ass is what might be expected from
the name; in half a minute she was clambering round and round among some
boulders, as lost a donkey as you would wish to see. I should have
camped long before had I been properly provided; but as this was to be so
short a stage, I had brought no wine, no bread for myself, and little
over a pound for my lady friend. Add to this, that I and Modestine were
both handsomely wetted by the showers. But now, if I could have found
some water, I should have camped at once in spite of all. Water,
however, being entirely absent, except in the form of rain, I determined
to return to Fouzilhic, and ask a guide a little farther on my way - 'a
little farther lend thy guiding hand.'
The thing was easy to decide, hard to accomplish. In this sensible
roaring blackness I was sure of nothing but the direction of the wind. To
this I set my face; the road had disappeared, and I went across country,
now in marshy opens, now baffled by walls unscalable to Modestine, until
I came once more in sight of some red windows. This time they were
differently disposed. It was not Fouzilhic, but Fouzilhac, a hamlet
little distant from the other in space, but worlds away in the spirit of
its inhabitants. I tied Modestine to a gate, and groped forward,
stumbling among rocks, plunging mid-leg in bog, until I gained the
entrance of the village. In the first lighted house there was a woman
who would not open to me. She could do nothing, she cried to me through
the door, being alone and lame; but if I would apply at the next house,
there was a man who could help me if he had a mind.
They came to the next door in force, a man, two women, and a girl, and
brought a pair of lanterns to examine the wayfarer. The man was not ill-
looking, but had a shifty smile. He leaned against the doorpost, and
heard me state my case. All I asked was a guide as far as Cheylard.
'C'est que, voyez-vous, il fait noir,' said he.
I told him that was just my reason for requiring help.
'I understand that,' said he, looking uncomfortable; 'mais - c'est - de la
peine.'
I was willing to pay, I said. He shook his head. I rose as high as ten
francs; but he continued to shake his head. 'Name your own price, then,'
said I.
'Ce n'est pas ca,' he said at length, and with evident difficulty; 'but I
am not going to cross the door - mais je ne sortirai pas de la porte.'
I grew a little warm, and asked him what he proposed that I should do.
