"Fear nothing; I will ensconce myself in the angle of this doorway--I only wish to see her enter the carriage--tomorrow I shall be at Sarcus, and I shall dry her tears." "I will go and fetch her." The barber went up to call Blanche, who had heard the carriage and was ready. "I am here, my good friend," said she, hastily leaving her room, "I knew the carriage had come." Touquet walked first, and Blanche followed; her heart was palpitating and, although she thought she was going to rejoin Urbain, this departure in the middle of the night had about it something mysterious, singular, which almost frightened her. When they had reached the lower room the sweet girl glanced around her, saying,-- "What! has not Marguerite come to bid me good-by and kiss me?" "No, no, we haven't time for that," said Touquet taking her hand and leading her into the passage. When they reached the front door the barber put out his head to assure himself that the marquis was not within sight, then he opened the carriage door. "Come quickly," said he to Blanche, "get in; don't lose any time." Blanche darted into the street and stepped into the vehicle; her heart grew heavy as she found herself alone in it in the darkness of the night; but Touquet had already closed the door. "Good-by, my dear friend," she said to him, "I am going to rejoin Urbain, but I shall never forget you. All you have done for me is graven on my heart by gratitude." "Go on, go on, postilion," cried the barber, in a voice faltering with the emotions he experienced. At this moment two o'clock struck, the postilion cracked his whip, and the carriage which held Blanche started. "She is mine!" cried the marquis, and the barber hastily reentered his dwelling. CHAPTER VI THE RENDEZVOUS. STROKES OF FORTUNE. THE HOTEL DE BOURGOGNE. THE SEDAN CHAIR On taking his departure from the marquis' little house in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, at daybreak, the Chevalier Chaudoreille did not feel entirely reassured as to the outcome of his duel with Turlupin, whom he believed to be a great personage; and whom, incredible as it may seem, he firmly believed he had slain; however, the idea that he was now the confidential agent of one so powerful as the Marquis de Villebelle, which gave him the right to claim that nobleman's protection if it should be necessary to him, gave him the courage to return to Paris, where he summed up the events of the preceding night and their probable consequences. The marquis had promised him a hundred pistoles if Blanche should happen to please him, and Chaudoreille was confident that he should have that sum; but should Touquet discover that it was through him that the marquis had learned of Blanche's existence, he would have everything to fear from the barber's anger. However, he did not forget his rendezvous for the evening.