A thousand devils
chase the scamp!" And Michael let his head drop on the pommel of his
saddle as he fairly groaned in the bitterness of defeat.
I had just begun a dignified rebuke, for Michael's language was
inexcusable, when it flashed upon me that we had been, indeed, duped.
"Ah," I cried, in my fury, "of course we were taken in! Of course his
son was the lame hostler, the very prize we expected to bag! O Lord!
what will we say to my lady? We are precious sharp! I ought to have
known better. That stuff he told us! Langlois, pshaw, Berri--pouf! A
Berri never married a Langlois, and I might have remembered that Gluck
wasn't assassinated by a jealous duke. What shall we do?"
We all stood in the middle of the road, gazing stupidly at the lame dog
that gave us the clue. Then Arnold timidly suggested:--
"Hadn't we better go back to the inn?"
Instantly our horses' heads were turned and we galloped madly back on
our old tracks. Not a word was uttered until we reined up in front of
the lonely house, which looked more haunted by daylight than it did the
night before.
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