entangled in yonder thorn, and sticking to it by different parts of
my clothes and skin so fast that I really expected to have to leave
the one or the other behind me. I should still be there, in smarting
agony, if Tournebroche, my dear pupil, had not freed me."

"The thorns count for nothing," said M. d'Asterac, "but I'm afraid,
Monsieur l'Abbe, that you have trodden on a mandrake."

"Mandrakes," replied the abbe, "are certainly the least of my
cares."

"You're wrong," said M. d'Asterac. "It suffices to tread on a
mandrake to become involved in a love crime, and perish by it
miserably."

"Ah! sir," my dear tutor replied, "here are all sorts of dangers,
and I become aware that it was necessary to be closely shut in
between the eloquent walls of the 'Asteracian,' which is the queen
of libraries. For having left it for a moment only, I get the beasts
of Ezekiel thrown at my head, not to speak of anything else."

"Would you kindly give me news of Zosimus the Panopolitan?" inquired
M. d'Asterac.

"He goes on," replied my master; "goes on nicely, though slowly at
the moment."

"Do not forget, abbe," said the cabalist, "that possession of the
greatest secrets is attached to the knowledge of those ancient
texts."