“No, monsieur,” said the courier; “but there has been a government order to arrest a person on this road connected with the dreadful Polish plot, that has just eclated at Paris.  I passed a vidette of cavalry at Nancy, and they will be up here in half an hour.”

“A Polish plot!  Why, I left Paris only two days ago, and never heard of it.”

“C’est bien possible, Monsieur?  Perhaps, after all, it may only be an affair of the police; but they have certainly arrested one prisoner at Meurice, charged with this, as well as the attempt to rob Frascati, and murder the croupier.”

“Alas,” said I, with a half-suppressed groan, “it is too true; that infernal fellow O’Leary has ruined me, and I shall be brought back to Paris, and only taken from prison to meet the open shame and ignominy of a public trial.”

What was to be done?—­every moment was precious.  I walked to the door to conceal my agitation.  All was dark and gloomy.  The thought of escape was my only one; but how to accomplish it!  Every stir without suggested to my anxious mind the approaching tread of horses—­every rattle of the harness seemed like the clink of accoutrements.

While I yet hesitated, I felt that my fate was in the balance.  Concealment where I was, was impossible; there were no means of obtaining horses to proceed.  My last only hope then rested in the courier; he perhaps might be bribed to assist me at this juncture.  Still his impression as to the enormity of the crime imputed, might deter him; and there was no time for explanation, if even he would listen to it.  I returned to the room; he had finished his meal, and was now engaged in all the preparations for encountering a wet and dreary night.  I hesitated; my fears that if he should refuse my offers, all chance of my escape was gone, deterred me for a moment.  At length as he wound a large woollen shawl around his throat, and seemed to have completed his costume, I summoned nerve for the effort, and with as much boldness in my manner as I could muster, said—­

“Monsieur le Courier, one word with you.”  I here closed the door, and continued.  “My fortunes—­my whole prospects in life depend upon my reaching Strasbourg by to-morrow night.  You alone can be the means of my doing so.  Is there any price you can mention, for which you will render me this service?—­if so, name it.”

“So then, Monsieur,” said the Courier, slowly—­“so, then, you are the—­”

“You have guessed it,” said I, interrupting.  “Do you accept my proposal?”

“It is impossible,” said he, “utterly impossible; for even should I be disposed to run the risk on my own account, it would avail you nothing; the first town we entered your passport would be demanded, and not being vised by the minister to travel en courier, you would at once be detained and arrested.”