At eleven o'clock I had passed Saint-Georges-du-Puy, and Trémentines by noon; finally, about one o'clock, I approached a place which looked dangerous (should there be danger abroad at all), because the road I had to traverse ran between the wood of Saint-Léger and the forest of Breil-Lambert. I was debating in my mind whether it would be better to pass this _malo sitio_, as they say in Spain, at a foot pace or at a gallop, when I thought I heard my name pronounced behind me in a panting voice. Directly I heard my name called I felt no fear of the person who was uttering it. It was scarcely probable, however, that I had heard correctly. But I now heard it repeated a second time and more distinctly than the first. Who on earth could know me in the department of Maine-et-Loire, between Chemillé and Chollet? I turned my horse's head in the direction whence the voice came and soon saw a man running with breathless haste from the corner of the road to Nuaillé, signing to me with his hat that it was he was calling me to stop. There was no longer any doubt that the man wished to catch me up and that he was calling to me; but what could he possibly want? As he came nearer, I could distinguish his costume, which was that of a peasant. I waited, more puzzled than ever. The man ran as fast as his legs would carry him, and, as his voice failed him for want of breath, he put more and more expression into his gestures. At last he joined me, and flinging himself on my boot, began to kiss my knees. Speech was altogether out of the question; I believe if he had had only fifty yards more to run he would have fallen dead on his arrival, like the Greek of Marathon. Finally, he got his breath again. "You do not know me," he said, "but I, I know you: you are M. Alexandre Dumas, who saved me from the galleys!" Whereupon he fell on his knees and thanked me in the name of his wife and children. I jumped down, took him in my arms and embraced him. After a few moments he calmed down. "Ah! monsieur," he said, "what recklessness! and what good luck that I was set at liberty in time!" "What do you mean?" "Whoever advised you to travel in la Vendée in such a uniform as that?" "Nobody.... I acted according to my own wishes." "But it is a miracle you have not been killed before this!" "Ah, indeed! then are your Angevins as bad as that?"