De Blenau remained silent for a moment. "Was it your son who brought your letter to me?" demanded he. The Woodman assented; and the Count continued: "He was a shrewd boy, then. At all events, it must be risked. Wait, I will write, and depend upon you." The Woodman, however, urged that if he stayed so long, suspicion might be excited; and De Blenau suffered him to depart, desiring him to return in an hour, when the letter would be ready. During his absence, the prisoner wrote that epistle which we have already seen delivered. In it he told his situation, and the nature of the questions which had been asked him by Lafemas. He hinted also that his fate was soon likely to be decided; and desired, that any communication which it might be necessary to make to him, might be conveyed through the Woodman of Mantes. More than one hour elapsed after this letter was written before Philip again appeared. When he did so, however, he seemed in some haste. "Monsieur le Comte," said he, "my son is here. They have let me take him into my cell to rest, but I dare not be absent more than a moment, for fear they suspect something. Is the letter ready?" De Blenau placed it in his hand, and would fain have added some gold. "The Queen is at Chantilly," said he, "and your son will want money for his journey." "No, no, Sir," replied Philip, "that is no stuff for a child. Let him have a broad-piece, if you like, to help him on, but no more." "Well then," said the Count, "accept the rest for your services. I have more in that valise." "Not so, either, Monseigneur," answered the Woodman. "Pay for what is done, when it is done;" and taking the letter and one gold piece, he left the apartment. CHAPTER VIII. Which shows that Accident holds Wisdom by the leg, and like a pig-driver with a pig, often makes her go forward by pulling her back. The heavy carriage which conveyed Pauline de Beaumont towards Paris rolled on with no great rapidity, and the time, to her anxious mind, seemed lengthened to an inconceivable degree. Towards night, every little town they entered she conceived to be the capital, and was not undeceived till Mademoiselle de Hauteford observed, that they had set out so late she was afraid they would be obliged to pass the night at Ecouen. In her companion Pauline found but little to console or soothe her under the anxiety and fear which the dangerous enterprise she had undertaken naturally produced. Mademoiselle de Hauteford had little either of warmth of heart or gentleness of disposition; and such were the only qualities which could have assimilated with Pauline's feelings at that time.