“Is it not possible,” said I, “that _he_ may feel no inclination to encumber himself with a fellow-traveller, and particularly one a stranger to him?” “Have no fear on that head. Your presence, on the contrary, will give him courage, and we must let him suppose you accompany him at our suggestion.” “Not with any implied knowledge or any connection with your views, however,” said I. “This is well understood between us?” “Perfectly so. And now meet me here this evening, after coffee, and I will give you your final instructions, Adieu, for the present.” He waved his hand and left me. Then, after walking a few paces, turned quickly round, and said,-- “You will remember, a blouse and knapsack are indispensable for your equipment. Adieu!” CHAPTER XXX. AN OLD SAILOR OF THE EMPIRE No circumstance of any interest occurred on my journey to Marboeuf; my passport, made out in my own name as a sous-officier on leave, secured me against any interruption or delay; and on the third evening I reached the little wayside cabaret, about a league beyond the town, where I was informed by the count that the abbé would await me. To my surprise, however, I discovered that the house was occupied by a detachment of the Marines of the Guard, proceeding from Marboeuf to the coast; with these, assuming the “camaraderie” of the service, I soon made acquaintance, and being possessed of some information about the army, my company was at once coveted by the sailors, who had no opportunity of learning the events of the campaign. The flurried manner and the over-solicitous desire of the landlord to please, did not escape me; and taking the first opportunity that offered, I followed him into his room, and closed the door behind me. “Has _he_ arrived?” said I, assuming at once the tone of one with whom there need be no secrecy. “Ha! you are the captain, then, and I was right?” said he, not replying to my question, but showing that he was aware who I was. But in an instant he resumed, “Alas! no, sir; the orders to have quarters ready for ten men reached me yesterday; and though I told his messenger that he might come in safety,--the marines never noticing any traveller,--he has evidently been afraid to venture. This is the 10th; on the 12th the vessel is to be off the coast; after that it will be too late.” “But he may come yet.” The man shook his head and sighed; then muttered half aloud, “It was a foolish choice to take a coward for a hazardous enterprise. The Comte de Chambord has been here twice to-day to see him, but in vain.” “Where is he, then? at what distance from here?” “No one knows. It must be some leagues away, however, for his messenger seems tired and weary when he comes, and never returns the same day.” “Is it not possible he may have pushed on to the coast, finding this place occupied?”