The postilion took the coin and stuck it in his eye, as a fop of our day holds his eye-glasses. Morgan divined that this pantomime had a significance. “Well,” he asked, “what does that mean?” “That means,” said the postilion, “that, do what I will, I can’t help seeing with the other eye.” “I understand,” said the young man, laughing; “and if I close the other eye--” “Damn it! I shan’t see anything.” “Hey! you’re a rogue who’d rather be blind than see with one eye! Well, there’s no disputing tastes. Here!” And he gave him a second crown. The postilion stuck it up to his other eye, wheeled the carriage round and took the road back to Servas. The Companion of Jehu waited till he vanished in the darkness. Then putting the hollow of a key to his lips, he drew a long trembling sound from it like a boatswain’s whistle. A similar call answered him, and immediately a horseman came out of the woods at full gallop. As he caught sight of him Morgan put on his mask. “In whose name have you come?” asked the rider, whose face, hidden as it was beneath the brim of an immense hat, could not be seen. “In the name of the prophet Elisha,” replied the young man with the mask. “Then you are he whom I am waiting for.” And he dismounted. “Are you prophet or disciple?” asked Morgan. “Disciple,” replied the new-comer. “Where is your master?” “You will find him at the Chartreuse of Seillon.” “Do you know how many Companions are there this evening?” “Twelve.” “Very good; if you meet any others send them there.” He who had called himself a disciple bowed in sign of obedience, assisted Morgan to fasten the valise to the croup of the saddle, and respectfully held the bit while the young man mounted. Without even waiting to thrust his other foot into the stirrup, Morgan spurred his horse, which tore the bit from the groom’s hand and started off at a gallop. On the right of the road stretched the forest of Seillon, like a shadowy sea, its sombre billows undulating and moaning in the night wind. Half a mile beyond Sue the rider turned his horse across country toward the forest, which, as he rode on, seemed to advance toward him. The horse, guided by an experienced hand, plunged fearlessly into the woods. Ten minutes later he emerged on the other side. A gloomy mass, isolated in the middle of a plain, rose about a hundred feet from the forest. It was a building of massive architecture, shaded by five or six venerable trees. The horseman paused before the portal, over which were placed three statues in a triangle of the Virgin, our Lord, and St. John the Baptist. The statue of the Virgin was at the apex of the triangle.