his master there and
back with his own horses, at nightfall ventured to moderate the pace.

As they entered the forest of Vincennes the position of beast, man, and
master was as follows:--The coachman, liberally soaked in the kitchen
of the aristocrat of the Bourse, was perfectly tipsy, and slept soundly,
while still holding the reins to deceive other wayfarers. The footman,
seated behind, was snoring like a wooden top from Germany--the land
of little carved figures, of large wine-vats, and of humming-tops. The
Baron had tried to think; but after passing the bridge at Gournay, the
soft somnolence of digestion had sealed his eyes. The horses understood
the coachman's plight from the slackness of the reins; they heard the
footman's basso continuo from his perch behind; they saw that they
were masters of the situation, and took advantage of their few minutes'
freedom to make their own pace. Like intelligent slaves, they gave
highway robbers the chance of plundering one of the richest capitalists
in France, the most deeply cunning of the race which, in France,
have been energetically styled lynxes--loups-cerviers. Finally, being
independent of control, and tempted by the curiosity which every one
must have remarked in domestic animals, they stopped where four roads
met, face to face with some other horses, whom they, no doubt, asked
in horses' language: "Who may you be? What are you doing? Are you
comfortable?"

When the chaise stopped, the Baron awoke from his nap. At first he
fancied that he was still in his friend's park; then he was startled
by a celestial vision, which found him unarmed with his usual
weapon--self-interest. The moonlight was brilliant; he could have read
by it--even an evening paper. In the silence of the forest, under this
pure light, the Baron saw a woman, alone, who, as she got into a hired
chaise, looked at the strange spectacle of this sleep-stricken carriage.
At the sight of this angel the Baron felt as though a light had flashed
into glory within him. The young lady, seeing herself admired, pulled
down her veil with terrified haste. The man-servant gave a signal which
the driver perfectly understood, for the vehicle went off like an arrow.

The old banker was fearfully agitated; the blood left his feet cold and
carried fire to his brain, his head sent the flame back to his heart; he
was chocking. The unhappy man foresaw a fit of indigestion, but in spite
of that supreme terror he stood up.