“Gorenflot!” cried the cavalier.

“M. Chicot!”

“Where the devil are you going?”

“I do not know. And you?”

“Oh! I am going straight before me.”

“Very far?”

“Till I stop. But you—what are you doing outside the barriers?”

“Alas! M. Chicot! I am proscribed,” said Gorenflot, with an enormous sigh.

“What?”

“Proscribed, I tell you. My brothers reject me from their bosom: I am anathematized, excommunicated.”