and took a path through the woods, leaving his late companions
confused and bewildered.

"He must be that count who has hired Franconville; that's the path to
it," said Leger.

"If ever again," said the false Schinner, "I am caught blague-ing in a
public coach, I'll fight a duel with myself. It was your fault,
Mistigris," giving his rapin a tap on the head.

"All I did was to help you out, and follow you to Venice," said
Mistigris; "but that's always the way, 'Fortune belabors the slave.'"

"Let me tell you," said Georges to his neighbor Oscar, "that if, by
chance, that was the Comte de Serizy, I wouldn't be in your skin for a
good deal, healthy as you think it."

Oscar, remembering his mother's injunctions, which these words
recalled to his mind, turned pale and came to his senses.

"Here you are, messieurs!" cried Pierrotin, pulling up at a fine iron
gate.

"Here we are--where?" said the painter, and Georges, and Oscar all at
once.

"Well, well!" exclaimed Pierrotin, "if that doesn't beat all! Ah ca,
monsieurs, have none of you been here before? Why, this is the chateau
de Presles."