One person told them that Chaudron was distant only two leagues, and
hearing this they plucked up their courage, and made an effort to rouse
that of their steeds. Another, however, soon assured them that it was
at the very least a long five leagues to Chaudron, and again their
spirits sank in despair. A third had never heard the name of the place,
and at last a fourth informed them, that whatever the distance might be,
they were increasing it every moment, and that their horses' heads were
turned exactly in the wrong direction. Then at length their young guide
confessed that he must have lost his way, and excused himself by
declaring that the turnings were so like one another that it was
impossible for any one in that country really to remember his way at a
distance of more than two leagues from his own home.
"And what village are we nearest to, my friend?" said Chapeau, inquiring
of the man who had given the above unwelcome information.
"Why the chapel of Genet," said he, "is but a short quarter of a league
from you, and the Cure's house is close by, but the village and the
chateau are a long way beyond that, and not on the straight road
either.
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