"Let us trust the 'other path' may open, then," said Joseph, "for most vexatious obstacles are being thrown in the way of our ministers on the frontier; they are either refused passports altogether, or such as they are provided with are declared worthless."
"Romilly's passport, then, will be no good," thought I, and I was musing on the moral advantage to my uncle of his having refused to use it from the first, when Joseph in alarm cried—
"Hist—I hear some one galloping hard after us. Let us whip on as fast as we can."
But we had just reached the foot of a heavy ascent, and the pursuer gained upon us, and presently came up panting.
"Is Minister Chambrun here?" cried he, breathlessly.
"Who are you that ask?" returned I. At the same instant my uncle cried—
"Yes, here I am. What is it?"
"What a dance you have led me!" cried the messenger. "I come from the commissioner, who sends you a passport, and desires you to go to Bordeaux as fast as you can."
What a smile broke over my uncle's face!
"Said I not," cried he, joyfully, "that a path would doubtless open for me? Henceforth, my children, never distrust the Lord."