I have travelled twelve leagues.

I have travelled twelve leagues. Can you?-- if I pay?" "I would not refuse," said the peasant, "to lodge any respectable man who would pay me. But why do you not go to the inn?" "There is no room." "Bah! Impossible. This is neither a fair nor a market day. Have you been to Labarre?" "Yes." "Well?" The traveller replied with embarrassment: "I do not know. He did not receive me." "Have you been to What's-his-name's, in the Rue Chaffaut?" The stranger's embarrassment increased; he stammered, "He did not receive me either." The peasant's countenance assumed an expression of distrust; he surveyed the newcomer from head to feet, and suddenly exclaimed, with a sort of shudder:-- "Are you the man?--" He cast a fresh glance upon the stranger, took three steps backwards, placed the lamp on the table, and took his gun down from the wall. Meanwhile, at the words, Are you the man? the woman had risen, had clasped her two children in her arms, and had taken refuge precipitately behind her husband, s