"Another affront. I assure you, monsieur, I told the gentleman I am but twenty-eight and four months."
"Ohé! Monsieur has a light vein. When a man has passed twenty-eight he is twenty-nine in the eyes of the law. Monsieur's vanity need not be offended. Now, monsieur, the pockets. 'Tis but a ceremony, I assure monsieur."
The pockets were soon done with. The man saw a purse through which glistened many pistoles and louis d'or and gold crowns, several bills drawn by the great French banker Bernard, which could be changed almost anywhere, and--a portrait.
"Hein!" the man said, though not rudely. "A beautiful young lady. Handsome as monsieur himself, doubtless one whom----"
"Precisely. There is nothing more?"
"Except the baggage."
"I have none. By to-night, or to-morrow, or the next day, I hope to be in Marshal de Boufflers' lines."
"Monsieur must ride then. The Marshal's lines stretch from----"
"I know. I shall reach them as soon as horse can carry me."
After which the young man was permitted to walk ashore.