on our three cowardly
companions. They stopped simultaneously, and having muttered to each
other some words which I could not hear, they turned their horses'
heads, threw the bridles on their necks, and galloped back towards
Paris.

"'Good heavens!' said the guardsman, who appeared as much annoyed as I
was by this infamous desertion, 'what is to be done? we are but two
now.'

"From rage and consternation I had lost all power of speech. I doubted
whether my first revenge should not be in pursuing the cowards who had
abandoned me. I saw them flying, and looked in the other direction at
the escort: if it had been possible to divide myself, I should at once
have fallen upon both these objects of my fury; I should have destroyed
all at the same moment.

"The guardsman, who saw my irresolution by my wandering gaze, begged of
me to hear his advice. 'Being but two,' he said, 'it would be madness
to attack six men as well armed as ourselves, and who seem determined
to receive us firmly. Let us return to Paris, and endeavour to succeed
better in the choice of our comrades. The police cannot make very
rapid progress with two heavy vans; we may overtake them tomorrow
without difficulty.'

"I reflected a moment on this suggestion; but seeing nothing around me
but despair, I took a final and indeed desperate resolution: this was
to thank my companion for his services, and, far from attacking the
police, to go up with submission and implore them to receive me among
them, that I might accompany Manon to Havre-de-Grace, and afterwards,
if possible, cross the Atlantic with her. 'The whole world is either
persecuting or betraying me,' said I to the guardsman; 'I have no
longer the power of interesting anyone in my favour; I expect nothing
more either from fortune or the friendship of man; my misery is at its
height; it only remains for me to submit, so that I close my eyes
henceforward against every gleam of hope. May Heaven,' I continued,
'reward you for your generosity! Adieu! I shall go and aid my
wretched destiny in filling up the full measure of my ruin!' He, in
vain, endeavoured to persuade me to return with him to Paris. I
entreated him to leave me at once, lest the police should still suspect
us of an intention to attack them."

XII

The pauses and intermissions of pain become positive pleasures; and
have thus a power of shedding a satisfaction over the intervals of
ease, which few enjoyments exceed.--PA