"It's that blockhead of a postilion's fault: I told him to upset me as we passed you; but the rascal preferred to upset you. That annoys me the more, because I expected to get a seat in your carriage, whereas I must offer to take you in mine, which is a very different matter. Never mind: let me talk and act. I see already that it will be easy enough to pull the wool over this poor Ménard's eyes. But be ready to second me, and back up what I say, when it's necessary. Above all things, don't forget that I am Baron Potoski, Palatine of Rava and Sandomir. You nearly spoiled everything by calling me Dubourg; luckily, I found a way to straighten that out; but don't make any more such blunders, or I shall be obliged to travel without you, and I assure you I shall not go very far." Ménard returned and announced that one of the axles of the chaise was broken, and that it could not be repaired before the next morning. "Well, messieurs," said Dubourg, "you must do me the honor to ride in my carriage; we will stop at the first village and pass the night there, while the local blacksmith repairs your chaise." This plan being adopted, they left the postilion to bring the vehicle to the village, and our three travellers entered the Polish baron's berlin. It was a wretched old affair, the lining patched and soiled, and so badly hung that the passengers were jolted terribly. Frédéric could not restrain a smile as he stepped into the palatine's equipage; but Dubourg hastened to say to Monsieur Ménard, who took his place modestly on the front seat and had not as yet done more than glance furtively at his surroundings: "This carriage is older than we are; it belonged to my grandfather. It was in this same carriage that he rescued Stanislas Leczinski, when he was pursued by his rival, Augustus, whose cause was espoused by the Czar, while Charles XII of Sweden was the protector of Stanislas.--But you know all that better than I do, Monsieur Ménard, for you are a scholar." "Oh! monsieur le baron." "To return to this carriage--all my family revere it as I do; it is a family carriage. When my father left Cracow, during a period of civil commotion, this modest berlin contained six millions in gold and jewels; it was the remnant of his fortune, with which he intended to live in retirement in Bretagne, where they have delicious milk and butter." At this point, Frédéric, who had bitten his lips at the six millions, began to cough to overcome his desire to laugh, while Monsieur Ménard looked at the carriage with the utmost respect.