"Such affairs are, in truth, very unpleasant for travellers. They say, monsieur le baron, that travelling is very dangerous in Italy. You have travelled so much, that you can probably tell us." "Unquestionably there are brigands in Italy, Monsieur Ménard. The peculiarity of that country is that the roads are most dangerous at noon, for no one but the brigands dares to face the hot sun at that time of day. However, if there are highway robbers in the Apennines and in Germany and England, unfortunately there's no lack of them in France. It's quite as dangerous now to travel in France." "What! in France, monsieur le baron? I thought that the roads were perfectly safe." "Then you don't read the papers, Monsieur Ménard?" "Very rarely." "If you did, you would see that the forests of Sénart, Bondy, Fontainebleau, and even Villers-Cotterets, all have their bands of robbers." "Mon Dieu!" "Unfortunately, the villains are becoming more savage day by day. They used to content themselves with robbing you, but now they beat you with clubs, and you're lucky if you leave their hands alive." "The deuce! the deuce! if I had known this!" muttered Ménard, looking about him uneasily. They were just entering the wood. "Oh! don't be alarmed, Monsieur Ménard," continued Dubourg; "ordinarily, the robbers confine their attentions to the one who has the money; he has to pay for the others: they tie him to a tree and strip him as bare as a worm, to make sure that he has nothing hidden in his clothing." "That does not quiet my apprehensions at all, monsieur le baron; for, as it happens, I have charge of the money for our journey." "Oh! if I had known that, I wouldn't have told you. I thought that Frédéric---- But in that case you must sell your life dearly. You are armed, of course?" "I never use weapons, monsieur le baron." "Then you must learn to use them; at this moment, we are driving through a forest where three friends of mine were killed." "What's that! in this wood? It does seem very dense." And Ménard glanced fearfully to right and left. It was beginning to grow dark, and that fact added to his terror. "Drive at full speed, postilion!" he cried, in a trembling voice. But the postilion, who had received his instructions from Dubourg, did not quicken his pace. Frédéric said nothing, but seemed lost in thought, and Dubourg took his pistols from his pocket and examined them carefully, glancing into the woods from time to time. "Parbleu! Monsieur Ménard," he said, taking from his pocket a shabby green wallet, in which he had placed his last restaurant bill to make it appear well filled, "this contains my whole fortune for the moment. The fifteen thousand francs which I now have for my travelling expenses are in this wallet; as you have been obliging enough to take charge of Frédéric's funds, I am sure that you will consent to be my cashier, too; there is no need of having two of us to pay our hotel bills; it's much better that you should do it all."