And poor Ménard produced in one hand his wallet, and in the other a purse filled with gold, and fixed his eyes upon Dubourg with a suppliant expression.
"Really," said the latter, "I don't know if I ought to undertake—— Perhaps Frédéric will be offended if——"
"Oh! no, no, monsieur le baron; I am sure that he will approve of my action."
"Here are four men with rifles coming toward us," said the postilion.
"Great God! we are lost!" cried Ménard.
"Give them to me, quickly," said Dubourg, taking the wallet and the purse; "I see that this is a matter for me to attend to."
Ménard hid under the seat; the postilion shouted and swore, and lashed his horses; Dubourg leaned out of the chaise and fired both his pistols in the air; Frédéric pretended to wake up; the carriage flew like the wind, and in five minutes they were out of the wood.
"We are safe!" said Dubourg, assisting Ménard to rise.
"We are out of the woods; there's no more danger. We had a narrow escape, eh, Frédéric?"