I grew a little warm, and asked him what he proposed that I should do.
'Where are you going beyond Cheylard?' he asked by way of answer.
'That is no affair of yours,' I returned, for I was not going to indulge
his bestial curiosity; 'it changes nothing in my present predicament.'
'C'est vrai, ca,' he acknowledged, with a laugh; 'oui, c'est vrai. Et
d'ou venez-vous?'
A better man than I might have felt nettled.
'Oh,' said I, 'I am not going to answer any of your questions, so you may
spare yourself the trouble of putting them. I am late enough already; I
want help. If you will not guide me yourself, at least help me to find
some one else who will.'
'Hold on,' he cried suddenly. 'Was it not you who passed in the meadow
while it was still day?'
'Yes, yes,' said the girl, whom I had not hitherto recognised; 'it was
monsieur; I told him to follow the cow.'
'As for you, mademoiselle,' said I, 'you are a farceuse.'
'And,' added the man, 'what the devil have you done to be still here?'
What the devil, indeed! But there I was.
