hanged."

"That's but too true," said my good master. "We have to look out for
safety. Perhaps it will be necessary to leave Paris, where, no
doubt, we shall be wanted; and even to fly to Holland. Alas! I
foresee that there I shall write lampoons for ballet girls with that
same hand which has been employed to annotate right amply the
alchemistic treatises of Zosimus the Panopolitan."

"Listen to me, abbe," said M. d'Anquetil, "I have a friend who will
hide us at his country seat for any length of time. He lives within
four miles of Lyons, in a country horrid and wild, where nothing is
to be seen but poplars, grass and woods. There we must go. There
we'll wait till the storm is over. We'll pass the time hunting and
shooting. But we must at once find a post-chaise or, better still, a
travelling coach."

"I know where to get that," said the abbe. "At the _Red Horse_
hotel, at the Circus of the Bergeres, you can have good horses, as
well as all sorts of vehicles. I made the acquaintance of the
landlord at the time I was secretary to Madame de Saint Ernest. He
liked to oblige people of quality. I am not quite sure if he is
still alive, but he ought to have a son like himself. Have you
money?"

"I have with me a rather large sum," replied M. d'Anquetil, "and I
am glad of it, as I cannot dream of going home, where the constables
will not fail to be on the lookout to arrest and conduct me to the
Chatelet. I forgot my servants, whom I left in Catherine's house,
and I do not know what has become of them. I thrashed them, and