of twenty francs! They could not afford to take post on that small amount; so the two heroes asked for a letter to the new director of posts, M. Chardel, who had been appointed, the day before, by Baude and Arago. By virtue of this letter, M. Chardel gave them an order to the various posting-masters along the route, putting horses at their service, and he himself gave them the two best cobs out of his stable. Charras and Lothon set off at as fast a gallop as the barricades would allow; two or three shots were fired at them because they were taken for officers of the Royal Guard attempting flight; but they reached Bourget, and drew up at the livery stables of the same posting-master who had given me horses and a carriage an hour previously. The roads to Soissons and to la Fère both start together, and only divide at the Gonesse and at a spot called the _Patte-d'oie_; here the bifurcation on the right leads to Dammartin, Villers-Cotterets and Soissons, and the other to Senlis, Compiègne, Noyon and la Fère. The worthy patriot of whom the two young men inquired for saddle-horses perceived at once that they (Lothon especially) could not manage half that distance at full speed; he brought out a second trap, which he horsed, and he despatched them in it, wishing them God-speed. This wish, like that of "Good hunting!" no doubt brought them misfortune. Lothon was the first to get into the trap, and, to make room for Charras, he had to raise his sword. Night began to fall, and Charras, not noticing the sword, the point of which, as we have mentioned, was poking out at the end of its sheath, suddenly felt the icy cold of steel through his armpit, and tried to fling himself forward; but Lothon took him by the shoulders, thinking he had lost his footing, and tried to draw him in farther towards his side. Charras in vain shrieked, "You are killing me, I say!" but Lothon could hear nothing because of the bandage round his head, which stopped up his ear, and continued to draw him closer on the sword-point. Luckily, Charras was able to make a violent effort, tore himself out of his companion's hands and fell into the arms of the post-master, who, seeing that something extraordinary was happening inside the trap, seconded Charras's efforts by drawing him backwards. They went back into the house, and Charras took off his coat, waistcoat and shirt. The steel had penetrated an inch and a half or so under the armpit, and blood was flowing freely. They scraped some tinder and plugged the wound with a wet handkerchief, and, thanks to this apparatus, kept in its place by the wounded man's arm, the bleeding was stopped. Lothon was in a state of desperation, but, as his despair led to nothing, Charras encouraged him to give it up. As they re-entered the carriage, the post-master asked them-- "Have you any arms besides your swords?" "Upon my word, we haven't!" they replied.