I was sorely tempted to laugh, but Raymond’s long face aroused my pity. I was trying to release him from the trap, but to no purpose, when our host arrived with the servant. At sight of the latter, my poor companion made a horrible face, while the girl laughed till she cried.

“Aha! morgué! so I have caught my thief!” said the landlord, as soon as he caught sight of Raymond; but when he came nearer, he was greatly surprised to recognize the guest to whom he had lent his slippers. Raymond told a not improbable story of a trifling indisposition which surprised him in the night and compelled him to seek a certain place which he thought was upstairs; and in that way he had fallen into the trap set in the storeroom.

Our host apologized profusely. He alone knew the secret of the trap, and he hastened to release my companion. Raymond went to his room to dress; but he was in a savage humor and did not care to inspect the outskirts of Montmorency. He was afraid that the night he had passed on the hams, in his shirt, would give him the rheumatism, and he longed for the moment when we might start for Paris. I might have joked my neighbor on the hard luck that pursued him in his bonnes fortunes, but I was considerate and held my peace. I left him to rub his own shoulders, legs, and posteriors; and, after breakfasting, sallied forth alone to visit those delightful spots which Grétry and Jean-Jacques still adorn; for men of genius never wholly die. I will not describe scenes with which the reader is as familiar as myself; I should teach him nothing, and if I should make any blunders they would be detected; but if some day I visit a distant and desert country, if I see some Gothic château or some chapel tumbling to decay, I promise you a glowing description of it; for then I shall be able to say whatever comes into my head, without fear of contradiction.

Let us return to Raymond. He waited impatiently for my return from my walk. The cabriolet was mended, the horse harnessed, and we were at liberty to start. I helped in my two invalids, for Raymond was little better off than the groom; he could hardly move. I took my seat between them, and, after paying the innkeeper’s account, which included the slippers in which my companion returned to Paris, we started for the capital, where we arrived without accident, because I did not allow Monsieur Raymond to take the reins. On reaching our abode, we dismissed the cabriolet and gave the groom something by way of compensation for his sprained foot, which would keep him in the house a few days. I paid everything and presented to my companion a statement of our expenses overnight, as follows:

F.C.
For the cabriolet, which we kept one day longer than we intended3000
For the peasant woman and her son, who acted as our guide and helped us to pick up our horse600
For the hire of three donkeys at midnight900
For repairing the cabriolet1200
For injury to vines500
For accommodation at the inn, lodging, supper, and breakfast2800
For slippers for Monsieur Raymond250
For the servant who rubbed Monsieur Raymond300
For fire on two hearths, a most unusual thing in inns200
For the groom, who sprained his foot trying to stop our horse2000
Total11750

On examining the items of expense of our pleasure party, to which he might have added his costume, which was almost completely ruined, from the hat to the shoes, Raymond heaved a profound sigh, and he was rather long about taking from his purse the fifty-eight francs seventy-five centimes that he owed me. Our account being adjusted at last, we betook ourselves to our respective apartments.

XX
SUSPICIONS OF THE MIND.—APPREHENSIONS OF THE HEART

Thanks to my neighbor, I had not availed myself of Madame de Marsan’s courteous invitation; but I proposed to go soon to make my excuses to her, and I would be careful to go alone; it seemed to me that that would be preferable in every way.

Doubtless Caroline was awaiting me impatiently; I must make haste to put an end to her anxiety. I had promised to return during the night; but unforeseen events—— It was after two o’clock in the afternoon, when I hastened to Rue Caumartin.

This time she was not at her window; but could I expect her to give herself a twist in the neck in order to see me a moment sooner? No! I was too sensible to demand that. I went upstairs and rang—no answer. She had gone out! She had probably got tired of waiting for me, and had gone out for a walk, perhaps to make some new purchases. There was nothing for me to do but to go away and return; but I concluded to ring once more. I did so, to no purpose. I went downstairs in an ill humor, because I was annoyed; nothing annoys one more than a postponed pleasure. I had no right to be angry because she had gone out; still, it seemed to me that she might have waited for me. I walked away, scratching my ear; indeed, I believe that I scratched my head. Was it a presentiment? Alas! I had never yet found a faithful woman! But I had vowed not to distress myself beforehand; that never does any good. I determined to do my best not to distress myself afterward either! I should be more certain of being happy.