"I've been thinking of it, Peter, and I have come to a resolution that we can manage it better. He is certain to come again in an hour or two. It is only eleven. Now, I'll play him a trick." O'Brien then took one of the blankets, made it fast to the window, which he left wide open, and at the same time dissarranged the images he had made up, so as to let the gendarme perceive that they were counterfeit. We again crept under the bed; and as O'Brien foretold, in about an hour more the gendarme returned; our lamp was still burning, but he had a light of his own. He looked at the beds, perceived at once that he had been duped, went to the open window, and then exclaimed, "_Sacre Dieu! Ils m'ont eschappes et je ne ne suis plus corporal. Foutre! a la chasse_!" He rushed out of the room, and in a few minutes afterwards we heard him open the street door, and go away. "That will do, Peter," said O'Brien, laughing; "now we'll be off also, although there's no great hurry." O'Brien then resumed his dress of a gendarme; and about an hour afterwards we went down, and wishing the hostess all happiness, quitted the cabaret, returning the same road by which we had come. "Now, Peter," said O'Brien, "we're in a bit of a puzzle. This dress won't do any more, still there's a respectability about it which will not allow me to put it off till the last moment." We walked on till daylight, when we hid ourselves in a copse of trees. Our money was not exhausted, as I had drawn upon my father for 60 pounds, which, with the disadvantageous exchange, had given me fifty Napoleons. On the fifth day, being then six days from the forest of Ardennes, we hid ourselves in a small wood, about a quarter of a mile from the road. I remained there, while O'Brien, as a gendarme, went to obtain provisions. As usual, I looked out for the best shelter during his absence, and what was my horror at falling in with a man and woman who lay dead in the snow, having evidently perished from the inclemency of the weather. Just as I discovered them, O'Brien returned, and I told him: he went with me to view the bodies. They were dressed in a strange attire, ribands pinned upon their clothes, and two pairs of very high stilts lying by their sides. O'Brien surveyed them, and then said, "Peter, this is the very best thing that could have happened to us. We may now walk through France without soiling our feet with the cursed country." "How do you mean?" "I mean," said he, "that these are the people that we met near Montpelier, who came from the landes, walking about on their stilts for the amusement of others, to obtain money. In their own country they are obliged to walk so. Now, Peter, it appears to me that the man's clothes will fit me, and the girl's (poor creature, how pretty she looks, cold in death!) will fit you. All we have to do is to practise a little, and then away we start."