r it. Besides, I am as likely to escape one way as the other.
Monsieur knows more about the roads than I do, and will be able to
direct me.'

"Of course, I assented, for I was glad indeed to have him with me.
As soon as we hid up in a wood, he cut two strips of bark off the
trunk of a young tree, cut off the sleeve of my coat and shirt, put
the arm straight and, with a strip torn off my sash first bandaged
it, and then applied the two pieces of bark as splints, and finally
bound another bandage round them.

"He had carried with him the blanket and valises he had taken off
the saddle. The latter contained a bottle of wine, and some food,
and on this we lived for three days. Then I determined upon
starting. He went out in the evening and managed to buy, at a
cottage, two loaves of bread and a couple of bottles of wine. We
divided these. Then I put on my disguise, and we started in
different directions, he making south for the river, which I trust
the good fellow managed to reach and cross safely, while I struck
north.

"My wine and bread lasted me for four days, by which time I had
arrived at Louviers, on the Seine. I was now a hundred miles from
Le Mans, and altogether beyond the line of action. I felt
comparatively safe. My arm was so painful, however, that I felt
that, at whatever risk, I must see a surgeon.

"I went first to an inn, where my appearance as a stranger, and
without means of conveyance, excited the surprise of the landlord.

"'You are hurt, monsieur,' he said.

"'Yes; my horse fell under me and threw me heavily, and broke my
arm. Before I could recover myself, it had run away. Fortunately a
peasant who was going by bandaged my arm up, and I was able to walk
on here. Who is the best surgeon in the place?'

"He mentioned the name of the doctor, and said that he had the
reputation of being very skilful and kind. He offered to send for
him but, being close by, I said that I would rather go to him.

"The man's face gave me confidence, as soon as I entered. I knew
that it would be of no use to tell him the story of a fall, and I
said at once:

"'Monsieur, I believe doctors are like confessors, and that they
keep the secrets of their patients.'

"He smiled.

"'Monsieur has a secret, then?'

"'I have,' I said. 'I have had my arm broken by a musket ball--it
does not matter how or when, does it?'

"'In no way,' he said; 'my business is simply to do what I can for
you.'

"'It is seven days old,'