darkly. I respect the fidelity, while I will not follow its
dictates. I leave the path where fame and riches abound; I only ask you
to believe that I do so with honor. Let us part, then."

"Where do you mean to go, hence?"

"I know not; a prospect of escape had led me hither. I must now bethink
me of some other course."

"Burke, I am your debtor for one kindness, at least," said De Beauvais,
after a brief pause. "You saved my life at the risk of your own. The
night at the Chateau d'Ancre should never be forgotten by me; nor had
it been, if I did not revenge my own disappointed hopes, in not
seducing you to our cause, upon yourself. It may be that I wrong you in
everything as in this."

"Believe me, that you do, De Beauvais."

"Be it as it may, I am your debtor. I came here to-night to meet one who
had pledged himself to perform a service. He has failed in his promise;
will you take his place? The same means of escape shall be yours. All
the precautions for his safety and sure conduct shall be taken in your
behalf. I ask no pledge for the honorable discharge of what I seek at
your hands, save your mere assent."

"What is it you require of me?"

"That you deliver these letters to their several addresses; that you
do so with your own hands; that when questioned, as you may be, on the
state of France, you will not answer as the partisan of the Usurper."

"I understand you. Enough: I refuse your offer. Your zeal for the cause
you serve must indeed be great when it blinds you to all consideration
for one placed as I am."

"It has made me forget more, sir, far more than that, as I might prove
to you, were I to tell what my life has been for two years past. But for
such forgetfulness there is an ample recompense, a glorious one,--the
memory of our king." He paused at these words, and in his tremulous
voice and excited gesture I could read the passion that worked within
him. "Come, then; there shall be no more question of a compact between
us. I ask no conditions, I seek for no benefits: you shall escape.
Take my horse; my servant, who is also mounted, will accompany you to
Beudron, where you will find fresh horses in readiness. This passport
will prevent all interruption or delay; it is countersigned by Fouche
himself. At Lisieux, which you will reach by sunset, you can leave the
cattle, and the boy of the cabaret will be your guide to the Falaise
de Biville. The tide will ebb at eleven o'clock, and a rocket from the