"That is easily done, Monsieur de Cerons," said the merchant; "I am going to the Chateau de Blancford myself. There is scarcely a noble in the land that we merchants have not something to do with. The baron must have reached the chateau by this time, for he was to leave Paris in three weeks after we did. Come, come, Monsieur de Cerons," he said, seeing that I hesitated, "I have many a time remarked, since you were with us, that something weighs upon your mind. We owe you a great deal, not only for good service, but for kindness. Sit down and write a few lines to your friends, and we will find means that you shall have an answer. Relieve your mind, my friend; relieve your mind by words. Depend upon it, the best remedy for a heavy heart is to cast off part of the load upon paper." "But I have no means of writing here," I said, "and fear it will be difficult to procure them." "What! a merchant without paper and ink?" cried Martin Vern, opening a pocket in the lining of his cloak, and taking out all the requisites: "That would never do. There, Monsieur de Cerons, write, write, and I will take care it shall reach its address." I took the paper and pen that he gave me, and, with the first impulse of my heart, wrote a few lines to my cousin Louise. The terms in which I spoke were precisely such as I should have used before my departure. I bade her not forget me, nor the affection which had existed between us ever since our childhood. I bade her recall me to the remembrance of her brothers and La Tour. I told her that I should never forget or cease to love her and them; and I assured her that nothing but absolute necessity, and the fear of giving them all bitter pain, would have led me to quit them without bidding them adieu, as I had done. This led me to speak of my situation at the time, and I told her that I had met with much greater success than I could have expected; that I was already at the head of a small band: and that I was to lead, in company with another, the assault upon Angoulême on the following morning. A few words of affection and kindness succeeded, and, having folded and sealed the letter, I put the address upon it, and gave it into the hands of Martin Vern. He looked at the address, and when he saw the name, a sober and somewhat melancholy smile came over his face, and, putting it up carefully, he said, "It shall go safe." Shortly after this the head of Moric Endem made its appearance at the door, and, seeing me seated at the opposite table, he entered the room and came across towards me. Ere he was half way to the table, however, three or four of the different officers who were dining at the tables around started up, and one of them exclaimed, "Why, Moric Endem! what, you old comrade, is it you come back to join us? and looking fat and well-feathered too."