The Journey

           Attwoo’clockinthemorning,ourfouradventurersleftParisbytheBarriereSt.Denis.Aslongasitwasdarktheyremainedsilent;inspiteofthemselvestheysubmittedtotheinfluenceoftheobscurity,andapprehendedambushesoneveryside.

           Withthefirstraysofdaytheirtongueswereloosened;withthesungaietyrevived.Itwasliketheeveofabattle;theheartbeat,theeyeslaughed,andtheyfeltthatthelifetheywereperhapsgoingtolose,was,afterall,agoodthing.

           Besides,theappearanceofthecaravanwasformidable.TheblackhorsesoftheMusketeers,theirmartialcarriage,withtheregimentalstepofthesenoblecompanionsofthesoldier,wouldhavebetrayedthemoststrictincognito.Thelackeysfollowed,armedtotheteeth.

           AllwentwelltilltheyarrivedatChantilly,whichtheyreachedabouteighto’clockinthemorning.Theyneededbreakfast,andalightedatthedoorofanAUBERGE,recommendedbyasignrepresentingSt.Martingivinghalfhiscloaktoapoorman.Theyorderedthelackeysnottounsaddlethehorses,andtoholdthemselvesinreadinesstosetoffagainimmediately.

           Theyenteredthecommonhall,andplacedthemselvesattable.Agentleman,whohadjustarrivedbytherouteofDammartin,wasseatedatthesametable,andwasbreakfasting.Heopenedtheconversationaboutrainandfineweather;thetravelersreplied.Hedranktotheirgoodhealth,andthetravelersreturnedhispoliteness.

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Roboto Lora
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