Scarcely was the fur-lined apron of the caleche buttoned around me, and the German blinds let down, when I set to work to think over the circumstance that had just befallen me.

As I had never examined my passport from the moment Trevanion handed it to me in Paris, I knew nothing of its contents; therefore, as to what impression it might convey of me, I was totally ignorant.

To ask the courier for it now might excite suspicion; so that I was totally at sea how to account for his sudden change in my favour, or in what precise capacity I was travelling beside him.

Once, and once only, the thought of treachery occurred to me.

Is he about to hand me over to the gens-d'armes?
and are we now only retracing our steps towards Nancy?
If so, Monsieur le Courier, whatever be my fate, your's is certainly an unenviable one.