are all spies; the most miserable
creature that implored charity behind your chair as you sat at dinner
has, perhaps, his ten francs a day on the roll of the Prefecture! Ah,
monsieur! if I had not been a poor pupil of that school, I 'd have
at once seen that you were a victim, and not a follower; but I soon
detected my error--my education taught me at least so much!'

I had no relish for the self-gratulation of honest Jacques, uttered, as
it was, at my own expense. Indeed I had no thought for anything but the
entanglement into which I had so stupidly involved myself; and I could
not endure the recollection of my foolish credulity, now that all the
paltry machinery of the deceit was brought before me. All my regard,
dashed as it was with pity for the poor cure; all my compassionate
interest for the dear Lisette; all my benevolent solicitude for the sick
count, who was neither more nor less than Monsieur Fouche himself, were
anything but pleasant reminiscences now, and I cursed my own stupidity
with an honest sincerity that greatly amused my companion.

'And is France come to this?' cried I passionately, and trying to
console myself by inveighing against the Government.

'Even so, sir,' said Jacques. 'I heard Monsieur de Talleyrand say as
much the other day, as I waited behind his chair. It is only _dans les
bonnes maisons_, said he, "that servants ever listen at the doors."
Depend upon it, then, that a secret police is a strong symptom that we
are returning to a monarchy.'

It was plain that even in his short career in the police service,
Caillon had acquired certain shrewd habits of thought, and some power
of judgment, and so I freely communicated to him the whole of my late
adventure, from the moment of my leaving the Temple to the time of my
setting out for the chateau.

'You have told me everything but one, monsieur,' said he, as I finished.
'How came you ever to have heard the name of so humble a person as
Jacques Caillon, for you remember you asked for me as you rode up?'

'I was just coming to that point, Jacques; and, as you will see, it was
not an omission in my narrative, only that I had not reached so far.'

I then proceeded to recount my night in the forest, and my singular
meeting with poor Mahon, which he listened to with great attention and
some anxiety.

'The poor colonel!' said he, breaking in, 'I suppose he is a hopeless
case; his mind can never come right again.'

'But if the persecution were