in front of which were standing two covered wagons. From the appearance of the horses, which were still in harness, and reeking from the heat and fatigue of their journey, I surmised that the two vehicles had only just arrived.
I stopped a moment to inquire the cause of the tumult, but could obtain little enlightenment from the inquisitive crowd, who paid no heed to my questions, but went on pushing and fighting among themselves in their eagerness to reach the inn. At last an archer,[1] wearing a cross-belt and carrying his musket on his shoulder, made his appearance
at the door. Beckoning him towards me, I asked him to tell me what was occasioning all this hubbub.
"Nothing, sir," he replied, "nothing but a dozen girls of the town whom I and my comrades are taking to Havre-de-Grace, where we are going to put them aboard ship for America. There are some pretty ones among them, and that, apparently, is what excites the curiosity of these good country-folk."
I should have passed on after this explanation, had not my attention been arrested by the exclamations of an old woman, who came out of the inn wringing her hands and
- ↑ The armed police of Paris were called archers at the period of this story.—Translator.
