He was not a coward; he would not have budged an inch before an enraged tiger; but he would have travelled a hundred miles on foot to avoid the shadow of ridicule.

Profiting by the warning and a moment when he seemed unobserved, he slid from the tree, jumped into the next field, and entered the wood at a point somewhat farther down than the spot where he had scaled the hedge.

This done, he resumed his walk with the assured tread of a man who had a right to be there.

He had gone but a few steps, when he heard behind him the wild barking of the dog, which proved his retreat had been opportune.
Some of the peasants he had noticed as he passed before, were still standing at their doors.

Stopping before one of them he asked: "My friend, to whom does that large house below there, facing the other road, belong?
and whence comes that music ?" "You probably know that as well as I," replied the man, stolidly.
"Had I known, I should hardly have asked you," said Camors.
The peasant did not deign further reply.