The melancholy Jacques hesitated: a look from Belle-bouche would have caused him to reply that he regretted exceedingly his inability to honor his Alma Mater on that particular occasion; but unfortunately the young girl said nothing. Was she afraid of a second private interview, wherein the subject should be crooks and shepherdesses, and the hopes of Corydons? At all events, Belle-bouche played with her lace cuff, and her countenance wore nothing more than its habitual faint smile. Jacques heaved a sigh, and said he believed he ought to go. The Doctor rose, and pressing Belle-bouche's hand, kindly took his leave--followed by Jacques, who cast a last longing, lingering look behind. As for Sir Asinus, we regret to speak of him. Where were now all his chivalric thoughts--his noble resolutions--his courage and devotion to his lady fair? Alas! humanity is weak: we are compelled to say that the heroic knight, the ardent lover, the iron-hearted rebel, suddenly changed his device, and took for his crest a lion no longer, only a hare. From the back room he emerged into the garden, quaking at every sound; once in the garden, he stole ignominiously along the hedge; then he sallied forth into the road; then he mounted his horse, and fled like the wind. CHAPTER VI. HOW SIR ASINUS STAKED HIS GARTERS AGAINST A PISTOLE, AND LOST. Sir Asinus fled like the wild huntsman, although there was this slight difference between the feelings of the two characters:--the German myth was himself the pursuer, whereas Sir Asinus imagined himself pursued. He looked around anxiously from time to time, under the impression that his worthy friend and pedagogue was on his heels; and whenever a traveller made his appearance, he was complimented with a scrutiny from the flying knight which seemed to indicate apprehension--the apprehension of being made a prisoner. Just as Sir Asinus reached the outskirts of the town, he observed a chariot drawn by six milk-white horses approaching from a county road which debouched, like the highway, into Gloucester street; and when this chariot arrived opposite, a head was thrust through the window, and a good-humored voice uttered the words: "Give you good day, my dear Tom!" Sir Asinus bowed, with a laugh which seemed to indicate familiarity with the occupant of the carriage, and said: "Good morning, your Excellency--a delightful day." "Yes," returned the voice, "especially for a race! What were you scampering from? Come into the chariot and tell me all about it. I am dying of weariness." The movement was soon accomplished. His Excellency's footman mounted the horse, and Sir Asinus entered the chariot and found himself opposite an elderly gentleman, very richly clad, and with a smiling and rubicund face which seemed to indicate a love of the best living. This gentleman was Francis Fauquier, Governor of his Majesty's loyal colony of Virginia; and he seemed to be no stranger to the young man.