Douglas got into a post-chaise, accompanied by two horsemen; all three were well armed, and posted leisurely along this road.  Nonancourt is a kind of little village upon this route, at nineteen leagues from Paris; between Dreux, three leagues further, and Verneuil au Perche, four leagues this side.  It was at Nonancourt that he alighted, ate a morsel at the post-house, inquired with extreme solicitude after a post-chaise which he described, as well as the manner in which it would be accompanied, expressed fear lest it had already passed, and lest he had not been answered truly.  After infinite inquiries, he left a third horseman, who had just reached him, on guard, with orders to inform him when the chaise he was in search of appeared; and added menaces and promises of recompense to the post people, so as not to be deceived by their negligence.

The post-master was named L’Hospital; he was absent, but his wife was in the house, and she fortunately was a very honest woman, who had wit, sense, and courage.  Nonancourt is only five leagues from La Ferme, and when, to save distance, you do not pass there, they send you relays upon the road.  Thus I knew very well this post-mistress, who mixed herself more in the business than her husband, and who has herself related to me this adventure more than once.  She did all she could, uselessly, to obtain some explanation upon these alarms.  All that she could unravel was that the strangers were Englishmen, and in a violent excitement about something, that something very important was at stake,—­and that they meditated mischief.  She fancied thereupon that the Pretender was in question; resolved to save him; mentally arranged her plans, and fortunately enough executed them.

In order to succeed she devoted herself to the service of these gentlemen, refused them nothing, appeared quite satisfied, and promised that they should infallibly be informed.  She persuaded them of this so thoroughly, that Douglas went away without saying where, except to this third horseman just arrived, but it was close at hand; so that he might be warned in time.  He took one of his valets with him; the other remained with the horseman to wait and watch.

Another man much embarrassed the post-mistress; nevertheless, she laid her plans.  She proposed to the horseman to drink something, because when he arrived Douglas had left the table.  She served him in her best manner, and with her best wine, and kept him at table as long as she could, anticipating all his orders.  She had placed a valet, in whom she could trust, as guard, with orders simply to appear, without a word, if he saw a chaise; and her resolution was to lock up the Englishman and his servant, and to give their horses to the chaise if it came.  But it came not, and the Englishman grew tired of stopping at table.  Then she manoeuvred so well that she persuaded him to go and lie down, and to count upon her, her people, and upon the valet Douglas had left.  The Englishman