sloop will be your signal to embark."

"And for this I can render nothing in return?" said I, sadly.

"Yes. It may be that in your own country you will hear the followers
of our king scoffed at and derided,--called fools or fanatics, perhaps
worse. I would only ask of you to bear witness that they are at least
ardent in the cause they have sworn to uphold, and firm to the faith
to which they have pledged themselves. This is the only service you can
render us, but it is no mean one. And now, farewell!"

"Farewell, De Beauvais! But ere we separate forever, let me hear from
your lips that you bear me no enmity; that we are friends, as we used to
be."

"Here is my hand. I care not if you injured me once; we can be friends
now, for we are little likely to meet again as enemies. Adieu!"

While De Beauvais left the room to order the horses to be in readiness,
the landlord entered it, and seemed to busy himself most eagerly in
preparing my knapsack for the road.

"I trust you will be many a mile hence ere the day breaks," said
he, with an anxiety I could ill comprehend, but which at the time
I attributed to his desire for the safety of one intrusted with an
important mission. "And now, here come the horses.'"

A moment more, and I was seated in the saddle. A brief word at parting
was all De Beauvais spoke, and turned away; and the minute after I was
hurrying onward towards Beudron.

CHAPTER XXXII. THE FALAISE DE BIVILLE.

Everything occurred as De Beauvais had predicted. The authorities in the
little villages we passed glanced at my passport, and as instantaneously
handed it back, and we journeyed like couriers of the Emperor, without
halt or impediment.

We reached Lisieux early in the evening, where, having dismissed the
servant and horses, I took my way on foot towards a small fishing
village, called La Hupe, where at a certain cabaret I was to find my
guide to Biville.

The address of the sailor written on a card, and marked with a peculiar
cipher by De Beauvais, was at once recognized by the old Norman, who
welcomed me with a rude but kindly hospitality.

"Thou art more like a man to make this venture than the last three who
came down here," said he, as he slowly measured me with his eye from
head to foot. "These priests they sent us never dared even to look at
the coast, much less to descend the cliffs; but thou hast a look about
thee of another fashion. And now, the first thing is to have something
to