14th, seven o’clock P.M.—­This morning, as I was opening my journal to write, I had a visit from our old cashier.

His sight is not so good as it was, his hand begins to shake, and the work he was able to do formerly is now becoming somewhat laborious to him.  I had undertaken to write out some of his papers, and he came for those I had finished.

We conversed a long time by the stove, while he was drinking a cup of coffee which I made him take.

M. Rateau is a sensible man, who has observed much and speaks little; so that he has always something to say.

While looking over the accounts I had prepared for him, his look fell upon my journal, and I was obliged to acknowledge that in this way I wrote a diary of my actions and thoughts every evening for private use.  From one thing to another, I began speaking to him of my dream the day before, and my reflections about the influence of outward objects upon our ordinary sentiments.  He smiled.

“Ah! you, too, have my superstitions,” he said, quietly.  “I have always believed, like you, that you may know the game by the lair:  it is only necessary to have tact and experience; but without them we commit ourselves to many rash judgments.  For my part.  I have been guilty of this more than once, but sometimes I have also drawn a right conclusion.  I recollect especially an adventure which goes as far back as the first years of my youth—­”

He stopped.  I looked at him as if I waited for his story, and he told it me at once.

At this time he was still but third clerk to an attorney at Orleans.  His master had sent him to Montargis on different affairs, and he intended to return in the diligence the same evening, after having received the amount of a bill at a neighboring town; but they kept him at the debtor’s house, and when he was able to set out the day had already closed.

Fearing not to be able to reach Montargis in good time, he took a crossroad they pointed out to him.  Unfortunately the fog increased, no star was visible in the heavens, and the darkness became so great that he lost his road.  He tried to retrace his steps, passed twenty footpaths, and at last was completely astray.

After the vexation of losing his place in the diligence, came the feeling of uneasiness as to his situation.  He was alone, on foot, lost in a forest, without any means of finding his right road again, and with a considerable sum of money about him, for which he was responsible.  His anxiety was increased by his inexperience.  The idea of a forest was connected in his mind with so many adventures of robbery and murder, that he expected some fatal encounter every instant.

To say the truth, his situation was not encouraging.  The place was not considered safe, and for some time past there had been rumors of the sudden disappearance of several horse-dealers, though there was no trace of any crime having been committed.