“It has made me forget more, sir, far more than that, as I might prove to you, were I to tell what my life has been for two years past. But for such forgetfulness there is an ample recompense, a glorious one,--the memory of our king.” He paused at these words, and in his tremulous voice and excited gesture I could read the passion that worked within him. “Come, then; there shall be no more question of a compact between us. I ask no conditions, I seek for no benefits: you shall escape. Take my horse; my servant, who is also mounted, will accompany you to Beudron, where you will find fresh horses in readiness. This passport will prevent all interruption or delay; it is countersigned by Fouché himself. At Lisieux, which you will reach by sunset, you can leave the cattle, and the boy of the cabaret will be your guide to the Falaise de Biville. The tide will ebb at eleven o'clock, and a rocket from the sloop will be your signal to embark.” “And for this I can render nothing in return?” said I, sadly. “Yes. It may be that in your own country you will hear the followers of our king scoffed at and derided,--called fools or fanatics, perhaps worse. I would only ask of you to bear witness that they are at least ardent in the cause they have sworn to uphold, and firm to the faith to which they have pledged themselves. This is the only service you can render us, but it is no mean one. And now, farewell!” “Farewell, De Beauvais! But ere we separate forever, let me hear from your lips that you bear me no enmity; that we are friends, as we used to be.” “Here is my hand. I care not if you injured me once; we can be friends now, for we are little likely to meet again as enemies. Adieu!” While De Beauvais left the room to order the horses to be in readiness, the landlord entered it, and seemed to busy himself most eagerly in preparing my knapsack for the road. “I trust you will be many a mile hence ere the day breaks,” said he, with an anxiety I could ill comprehend, but which at the time I attributed to his desire for the safety of one intrusted with an important mission. “And now, here come the horses.'” A moment more, and I was seated in the saddle. A brief word at parting was all De Beauvais spoke, and turned away; and the minute after I was hurrying onward towards Beudron. CHAPTER XXXII. THE FALAISE DE BIVILLE. Everything occurred as De Beauvais had predicted. The authorities in the little villages we passed glanced at my passport, and as instantaneously handed it back, and we journeyed like couriers of the Emperor, without halt or impediment. We reached Lisieux early in the evening, where, having dismissed the servant and horses, I took my way on foot towards a small fishing village, called La Hupe, where at a certain cabaret I was to find my guide to Biville.