Without any further hesitation I drew forth Coiffier's gift. It was, as I have said, a hollow, wooden globe, and was made in two parts, which could be joined together or separated by a turn of the wrist. I held it in my hands for a moment or so and then opened it, and had just pulled forth the paper it contained, when by ill chance, as it seemed, the Capuchin, who was urging his mule past us, brushed violently against my horse, with the result that the paper slipped from between my fingers and fluttered to earth. Couronne, after her first start, was steady enough, but the monk's ill-conditioned mule kicked and plunged, bringing him apparently heavily to the ground. He fell exactly over the paper and lay there for a moment, face downwards, resting on one elbow. I sprang down, as much to get the paper as to assist him, but as I did so, he scrambled to his feet with 'A hundred pardons, monsieur, for my clumsiness,' and then hastily turned and hurried after his mule, which was already many yards ahead, behaving after its kind, and whose speed was not diminished by the sticks, stones, and oaths flung at him; and there was a roar of laughter--a mob will laugh or hiss at the merest trifles--as the lank figure of the Capuchin sped along in pursuit of his beast and vanished after him down a side street. Belin himself joined in the merriment, and I picked up the paper, muddy and much soiled. Smoothening it out against the flap of my saddle, I made out the words, '_To-night, under the limes in the Tuileries--at compline_.' There was no doubt about the writing, and, thrusting the precious scrap into my breast-pocket, I remounted. As I did so de Belin said: 'Well, have you changed your plans?' 'Partly, but I think I shall go back to my lodging.' 'Do nothing of the kind as yet. I have asked Pantin to meet us at the Two Ecus, your own ordinary. Vallon has gone to call him. You can give him any orders there. You owe me as much as to yield to me in this.' It would have been ungracious not to have agreed, and I told Lisois I would go with him. 'Hasten, then! The road is clearer now, thanks to the Capuchin, or rather to his mule. By the way, did you see the monk's face?' 'No!' 'A pity! I tried to, but failed in the attempt. His voice was familiar to me, and he seemed wonderfully active for an old man.' 'You are suspicion itself, Belin.' 'I have slept with the dogs and risen with the fleas. Harkee, Hubert! And you, Pierre! If you see that Capuchin again let me know at once; keep your eyes open. If you can persuade him to speak to me, it will be worth five crowns a-piece to you.' 'Monsieur's wishes shall be obeyed,' said both men in a breath, and now finding the road free enough we set off at a canter, and kept the pace up until almost at the door of the Two Ecus.