At length I found the place I sought--a little natural chair of branches high enough to be out of the reach of wild beasts, yet the ascent thereto easy. I climbed to it, notched myself in securely, and, my hunger somewhat comforted by the water I had drunk, fell almost immediately into a delicious stupor. I awoke quite suddenly, yet with a smooth swift leap to consciousness. The angle of moonlight was now shifted to an oblique one, so that no rays entered direct; and the space beneath me was sunk into profound darkness. For some moments I lay in a happy trance, dully appreciative of the indistinct shapes that encompassed me, of the smell of living green bark near my face, of the stars embroidered into a woof of twigs overhead. But presently, gazing down, a queer little phenomenon of light fixed my attention, indifferently at first, then with an increase of wonder. This spot of pink radiance waxed and waned and waxed and waned, with a steady recurrence, on the butt of a great tree, twenty yards away. At first it was of a strong rosy tint, but little by little it faded till it was a mere phosphorescent blot; and then, while I was flogging my brains to think what it could be, of a sudden it seemed to fly down to the noise of a little grunting explosion, and break into a shower of scarlet sparks. At that I was betrayed into a squiggle of laughter; for my phenomenon had in the flash resolved itself into nothing more mysterious than the glow from the pipe of a man seated silently smoking, with his head thrown back against the tree-foot. “Hullo!” he exclaimed in a surprised voice, but with nothing of fear in it; and I congratulated myself at least that the voice struck a different note to that of either of M. Tallien’s informers. Nevertheless, I had been a fool, and I judged it the wise policy to slide from my perch and join my unseen companion. He made me out, I am sure, long before I did him; yet he never moved or showed sign of apprehension. “Good evening, Jacques,” said I. “Good morrow, rather, Jacques squirrel,” he answered. “Is it so?” “It is so.” “You prefer the burrow, it seems, and I the branch.” “No doubt we are not birds of a feather.” “Why, truly, I seek Deputies,” I said, in a sudden inspiration. “And I my fortune,” he answered, serenely. “We travel by the same road, then. Have you a fragment of bread on you, comrade?” “If I had a loaf thou shouldst go wanting a crumb of it.” “And why, citizen?” “I do not love spies.” I fetched a grimace over my miscarried ruse. “Then wilt thou never make thy fortune in France,” I said. He gave a harsh laugh. “_You_ will prevent me for that word, citizen.” I curled myself up under the tree. “I will wait for the dawn and read thee thy fortune,” I said, “and charge thee nothing for it but a kick to help thee on thy way.” He laughed again at that. “Thou provest thyself an ass,” said he, and refilled and lit his pipe and smoked on silently.