"Hist, this is no time for laughter," said Jean. "Lend me a cloak of some kind to cover myself, and a horse, farmer. I must borrow a horse to-night."
"The horses have done work enough for to-day."
"Then one of them has got to do more than enough for once," the dwarf answered.
"Art in trouble, Jean?"
"Ay; though it's not my own—it's the Duke's."
"Which Duke's?" asked Jacques. "We hear such stories of first one and then the other that Vayenne would seem to be full of them."
"The Duke's—the one fighting yonder," answered Jean. "I must ride to him to-night."
"Well, for all you're a fool, you're a friend of mine, and have done me a service before now. You shall have a cloak and a horse, and Jean, come to think of it, the beast that carries the saddle best has had a lazy day of it. You'll find plenty of pace in him. And, Jean, I heard a report this morning that the fighting was all over yonder, and that the Duke was coming back. Is that true?"
"My heart leaps at the possibility, friend Jacques," said the dwarf; "and mark, if any come asking about me, you have seen nothing of me for many a day. If the lie is distasteful, think of the good it will do your country, and find consolation."
So, while they searched for him high and low in the city, Jean galloped away into the night toward the frontier.