ooked at each other as if they were studying a
picture, the coarse, gruff voice of Galope-Chopine was heard saying, in
a muffled tone: "There's no longer any danger, Monsieur d'Orgemont. But
this time, you must allow that I have earned my thirty crowns."

"My dear," said the miser to Marie, "swear to shut your eyes."

Mademoiselle de Verneuil placed one hand over her eyelids; but for
greater security d'Orgemont blew out the lamp, took his liberator by
the hand, and helped her to make seven or eight steps along a difficult
passage. At the end of some minutes he gently removed her hand, and
she found herself in the very room the Marquis de Montauran had just
quitted, and which was, in fact, the miser's own bedroom.

"My dear girl," said the old man, "you can safely go now. Don't look
about you that way. I dare say you have no money with you. Here are ten
crowns; they are a little shaved, but they'll pass. When you leave the
garden you will see a path that leads straight to the town, or, as they
say now, the district. But the Chouans will be at Fougeres, and it is
to be presumed that you can't get back there at once. You may want some
safe place to hide in. Remember what I say to you, but don't make use of
it unless in some great emergency. You will see on the road which leads
to Nid-aux-Crocs through the Val de Gibarry, a farmhouse belonging to
Cibot--otherwise called Galope-Chopine. Go in, and say to his wife:
'Good-day, Becaniere,' and Barbette will hide you. If Galope-Chopine
discovers you he will either take you for the ghost, if it is dark,
or ten crowns will master him if it is light. Adieu, our account is
squared. But if you choose," he added, waving his hand about him, "all
this is yours."

Mademoiselle de Verneuil gave the strange old man a look of thanks,
and succeeded in extracting a sigh from him, expressing a variety of
emotions.

"You will of course return me my ten crowns; and please remark that I
ask no interest. You can pay them to my credit with Maitre Patrat,
the notary at Fougeres, who would draw our marriage contract if you
consented to be mine. Adieu."

"Adieu," she said, smiling and waving her hand.

"If you ever want money," he called after her, "I'll lend it to you at
five per cent; yes, only five--did I say five?--why, she's gone! That
girl looks to me like a good one; nevertheless, I'll change the secret
opening of my chimney."

Then he took a twelve-pound loaf and a ham, and returned t