"We will visit the glaciers, we will ascend the Saint-Gothard, and the Rigi, which you have to climb on all fours. What magnificent views we shall have! And when we go down into the canton of Les Grisons, we will botanize. Monsieur Ménard will gather herbs. We will watch the Swiss maidens glean; they wear very short skirts--and we shall see some fine sights!" "Well, my dear master, what do you think of our plan?" queried Frédéric. The former tutor was enchanted with it: to travel with a man of such high rank, and so learned and agreeable, as Baron Potoski, seemed to him great good fortune; and although the hard cushions and the jolting of the berlin made him black and blue in spots, he felt brave enough to travel a thousand leagues in a carriage which had held King Stanislas, and in a seat which a princess of Hungary had occupied. "Most certainly I see no reason why we should not travel with monsieur le baron," he said; "and at the first post-office I will write to monsieur your father and tell him of our fortunate meeting; he cannot fail to approve our plan." "No, no!" cried Dubourg; "on the contrary, you must not write a single word to monsieur le comte. As I have told you, I am travelling incognito; I don't want anybody to know where I am. My government desires to appoint me ambassador to Turkey, but I am not at all desirous of that distinction. Monsieur le comte might inadvertently let the cat out of the bag, and all France would soon know my whereabouts; it will be much better not to say anything." "I agree with you," said Frédéric. "What's the use of saying anything about it to my father? He left me free to go wherever I please, and asked Monsieur Ménard to go with me as a friend, not as a mentor. Surely, my father would be exceedingly pleased to know that I am travelling with monsieur le baron; but in his delight at learning that I am in such company, he would undoubtedly betray your incognito, and you would be obliged to leave us." "Yes, I understand," said Ménard; "and yet--if----" Dubourg, seeing that the tutor still retained some scruples, made haste to produce his horn snuff-box, which he offered to Frédéric, looking at him with a meaning expression. "Do you recognize this, my dear Frédéric? it's the one I showed you at Paris." "Yes, I recognize it perfectly," said Frédéric, with no idea of Dubourg's purpose; while Monsieur Ménard glanced at the snuff-box and waited impatiently for the baron to explain himself. "Ah! it's a very precious object in my eyes!" said Dubourg, taking a pinch of snuff. "You have no suspicion, Monsieur Ménard, to whom this modest snuff-box belonged?" "No, monsieur le baron." "Modest as it is, I would not exchange it for one of solid gold. It was the King of Prussia's snuff-box, Monsieur Ménard." "The King of Prussia's?"