By full dawn he had passed through some open fields to the country, for the great circular wall completed under Napoleon had not then been even authorized. Regaining the highway, he proceeded towards Charenton, making on this occasion more haste on the road from Paris than he had ever made on the road thereto.
He was moneyless, hatless, clad in outer garments only, his inner ones having gone to make rope. As the morning advanced, people on the road stared at him with curiosity. Near Charenton he stepped aside to let a post-carriage pass towards Paris. To his surprise, the occupant of the carriage, having observed him in passing, thrust a good-natured face out of the window, ordered the postilion to stop, and called to Dick:
"My friend, you look wet!"
"I am wet," replied Dick, who had not moved since the carriage had gone by.
"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" asked the gentleman in the carriage.
"The same question was on the tip of my tongue," said Dick. "But I have already answered it." And then he spoke in English. "Good morning, Lord George!"
"Why, damme if it isn't Wetheral!" Lord George Winston also spoke English now, and a very pleased and friendly expression came over his face.
"Yes, it is Wetheral, and in much the same condition as when he first had the honor of meeting you."
"Egad, so it seems! Come, then, let me play the Good Samaritan again!"
"I don't see how I can refuse you, my lord," said Dick, looking down at himself.