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Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes by Robert Louis Stevenson
page 30 of 110 (27%)

'Sir,' said I, with my most commanding manners, 'you are a coward.'

And with that I turned my back upon the family party, who hastened to
retire within their fortifications; and the famous door was closed again,
but not till I had overheard the sound of laughter. Filia barbara pater
barbarior. Let me say it in the plural: the Beasts of Gevaudan.

The lanterns had somewhat dazzled me, and I ploughed distressfully among
stones and rubbish-heaps. All the other houses in the village were both
dark and silent; and though I knocked at here and there a door, my
knocking was unanswered. It was a bad business; I gave up Fouzilhac with
my curses. The rain had stopped, and the wind, which still kept rising,
began to dry my coat and trousers. 'Very well,' thought I, 'water or no
water, I must camp.' But the first thing was to return to Modestine. I
am pretty sure I was twenty minutes groping for my lady in the dark; and
if it had not been for the unkindly services of the bog, into which I
once more stumbled, I might have still been groping for her at the dawn.
My next business was to gain the shelter of a wood, for the wind was cold
as well as boisterous. How, in this well-wooded district, I should have
been so long in finding one, is another of the insoluble mysteries of
this day's adventures; but I will take my oath that I put near an hour to
the discovery.

At last black trees began to show upon my left, and, suddenly crossing
the road, made a cave of unmitigated blackness right in front. I call it
a cave without exaggeration; to pass below that arch of leaves was like
entering a dungeon. I felt about until my hand encountered a stout
branch, and to this I tied Modestine, a haggard, drenched, desponding
donkey. Then I lowered my pack, laid it along the wall on the margin of
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