"About eight months ago?"
"A few miles from Valparaiso?"
"About nightfall?"
"On the borders of a lake. A party of bandits had attacked your carriage, madame."
"The approach of a party of travellers mounted upon mules, whose bells could be heard a long distance off, frightened the scoundrels away. This party which had just left Valparaiso met us—"
"Precisely as I met you on the Rue de Vaugirard, a few minutes ago, madame," said the man, smiling; "and to ensure your safety, one of the gentlemen of the party, with three of his escort, decided to accompany your carriage as far as the nearest village."
"And this traveller was you, monsieur. I remember you perfectly now, though I had the pleasure of seeing you only for a few moments, and in the dusk, as night comes on so quickly in Chili."
"And it was very dark by the time we reached the village of—of Balaméda, if my memory does not play me false, madame."
"I do not remember the name of the village, monsieur, but what I do, and what I always shall remember, is your extreme kindness; for after you had escorted us to the village, you had to make great haste to overtake your party, which was travelling northward, it seems to me."
"Yes, madame."