"Oh! don't be alarmed; he'll cool down. Hereafter, we will travel like three little pasteboard Cupids; we will be virtuous, orderly; in short, true philosophers--which need not interfere with our living well, because that is necessary for our health; eh, Monsieur Ménard?" "_Credo equidem_, monsieur le baron." "But no more pomp and parade; I resume my incognito." "What, monsieur le baron!" "Yes, Monsieur Ménard; at all events, with six thousand francs we couldn't play the grandee very long--I mean, live up to our rank." "But, monsieur le baron, when you have received answers from Rava and Krapach?" "Oh! then it will be different; but I fear we shall not have them for a long time. As to the funds, I think that we had better let Frédéric take charge of them. He is calm and cool, and that is what we need in a cashier." "It's a great pity," muttered Ménard; "we lived so handsomely when monsieur le baron paid the bills!" All their plans being made, they paid their hotel bill; it amounted to eight hundred and fifty francs for the three weeks they had passed there, so that the count's remittance was seriously impaired at the outset; but meanwhile they had been lodged and fed like lords. Dubourg's only sentiment was regret at their inability to continue the same mode of life; Ménard sighed as he thought of the delicious repasts they had enjoyed; and Frédéric observed to Dubourg, in an undertone: "My friend, if we had continued to go so fast, we shouldn't have gone very far." Monsieur le comte's horses were sold, and they arranged with a stable-keeper to journey from Lyon. "These two halts have cost you dear, monsieur le baron," said Ménard; "a berlin and fifty thousand francs the first time, and fifteen thousand the second! A man could not travel long at that price!" "My mind is at rest now, Monsieur Ménard; I defy anyone to rob me. Socrates found his house large enough to receive his friends, and I shall find my purse full enough so long as Frédéric pays for me." Ménard had no reply to make to that; the comparison did not seem to him a happy one. Instead of taking the road to Turin, Frédéric gave orders to drive toward Grenoble; he desired to visit that city and its suburbs, especially the Carthusian monastery, whose wild aspect astounds and almost terrifies the traveller. Dubourg was in no hurry to reach Italy; it mattered little to him in which direction they went. Moreover, since his last misadventure, he did not presume to offer his advice. As for Ménard, he was always ready to yield to Frédéric's wishes, but the name of the Carthusian monastery made him shudder; he was afraid that his former pupil would want to take up his quarters in some hermitage, and he felt no sort of inclination for a frugal life.