ions of the day.

"The nuisance is," thought he, "that no sooner shall I lay my head on
the pillow to-night than I shall be snoring like the Seven Sleepers."

The car continued to advance.

After a sharp descent, the car turned to the right: the road now wound
along the side of a hill, bordered by the Seine on one side, and on
the other by perpendicular cliffs. High in the grey distance,
dominating the countryside, rose the venerated sanctuary of
Rouen--Notre Dame de Bon Secours.

"We have only six more kilometres to cover," remarked the abbe.

Soon they were moving at a slower pace through the outskirts of Rouen.

Jolted on the cobbles of the little street, thrown against each other
every time the car side-slipped on the two rails running along the
middle of the roadway, Fandor and the little abbe were knocked wide
awake.

"We are not going to stop?" asked Fandor.

"Yes. We must recruit ourselves: besides, I have to call at a certain
garage."

"Attention!" said Fandor to himself. "The doings of this little priest
are likely to have a peculiar interest for me! At the least sign of
danger, my Fandor, I give thee two minutes to cut and run!"

Our journalist knew Rouen well. He knew that to reach Barentin, the
car, passing out of the great square, surrounded by the new barracks,
would follow the quay, traverse the town from end to end, pass near
the famous transshipping bridge, and join the high road again.

"If we pull up at one of the garages along the quays, all will be
well," thought Fandor.... "In case of an alarm, a run of a hundred
yards or so would bring me to one of the many electric tramways.... I
should board a tram--devil take them, if they dared to chase and catch
me!"

The car had reached the bridge which prolongs the rue Jeanne d'Arc
across the Seine. They were now in the heart of Rouen. The chauffeur
turned:

"Can I stop, Monsieur? I need petrol and water."

The priest pointed to a garage.

"Stop there!"

The chauffeur began to supply the wants of his machine with the help
of an apprentice. The priest jumped out and entered the garage. Fandor
followed on his heels, saying:

"It does one good to stretch one's legs!"

The abbe seemed in no wise disturbed. He walked up to the owner of the
place.

"Tell me, my friend, have you, by chance, received a telegram
addressed to the Abbe Gendron?"

"That is so, Monsieur. It will be for you?"...

"Yes, for me. I asked that a message should b