"I can not tell you yet; but if you accept my offer this is what you will have to do: First you must expect to travel a year or more, or even--" "Or even for all eternity. Yes, I understand. And afterwards, what else?" "You are only to take with you one man, but he must be trustworthy, healthy, and brave." "I have such a one among my servants." "Very well; then you must bring fifteen or twenty thousand francs, not more." "What else?" "Provide yourself and your man with the best possible arms." I continued to smile as I watched Lord Falmouth. "It is getting to be serious," said I. "Allow me to finish, afterwards you can act as you see fit," he continued. "You must provide yourself with excellent arms, get your passport, and send immediately for your horses." "What! start off to-night?" "This very night,--this very hour; you must give me what I need to write to my _valet de chambre_, my waiting man will take it to him, and will return with all I shall want and my carriage, for it is important that you should have your carriage and I should have mine." "Ah, come, now, are you speaking seriously?" "Give me a chance to write, and you shall soon find out." And in a few moments Lord Falmouth had written his letter, and one of his men had started off with it. "But," said I, "my clothes--my trunks?" "If you will take my advice you will only carry with you the necessary linen for your voyage." "But how long is that journey to be? What road do we take?" "The road to Marseilles." "Are we going to Marseilles?" "Not exactly, but to a little port which is near that city." "And what to do there?" "We are to embark." "And in what direction are we to sail?" "That is my secret; trust in me and you will not regret it. However, I should tell you, perhaps," added he, in a tone which moved me deeply, "I ought to tell you without any silly trifling, that you will do as well to arrange any business you may have on your mind, in case of our not returning." "You mean I am to make my will?" I cried out, laughing at such an idea. "Do as you please," said Lord Falmouth, in the most uninterested way possible. Still continuing to believe this voyage in the light of a mystification in which I was willing to indulge him, I was so desirous of quitting Paris, where such cruel souvenirs continued to sadden my life, that I decided to write a few last words as a measure of prudence; however, I said to Lord Falmouth: "Oh, I see, it is a bet you have made, to get me to make my will." "Then don't make it," said he, without changing his expression.