"We'll kill the horses if necessary, and be back at seven in the evening, in time to show ourselves at the opera." "That will establish an alibi," observed d'Assas.
"Precisely," said Morgan, with his imperturbable gayety.

"How could men who applaud Mademoiselle Clotilde and M.Vestris at eight o'clock in the evening have been at Bar and Chatillon in the morning settling accounts with the conductor of a diligence?
Come, my sons, a last look at the map to choose our spot." The four young men bent over Cassini's map.
"If I may give you a bit of topographical advice," said the courier, "it would be to put yourselves in ambush just beyond Massu; there's a ford opposite to the Riceys--see, there!" And the young man pointed out the exact spot on the map.
"I should return to Chacource, there; from Chacource you have a department road, straight as an arrow, which will take you to Troyes; at Troyes you take carriage again, and follow the road to Sens instead of that to Coulommiers.

The donkeys--there are plenty in the provinces--who saw you in the morning won't wonder at seeing you again in the evening; you'll get to the opera at ten instead of eight--a more fashionable hour--neither seen nor recognized, I'll warrant you." "Adopted, so far as I am concerned," said Morgan.
"Adopted!" cried the other three in chorus.
Morgan pulled out one of the two watches whose chains were dangling from his belt; it was a masterpiece of Petitot's enamel, and on the outer case which protected the painting was a diamond monogram.

The pedigree of this beautiful trinket was as well established as that of an Arab horse; it had been made for Marie-Antoinette, who had given it to the Duchesse de Polastron, who had given it to Morgan's mother.
"One o'clock," said Morgan; "come, gentlemen, we must relay at Lagny at three." From that moment the expedition had begun, and Morgan became its leader; he no longer consulted, he commanded.
D'Assas, who in Morgan's absence commanded, was the first to obey on his return.
Half an hour later a closed carriage containing four young men wrapped in their cloaks was stopped at the Fontainebleau barrier by the post-guard, who demanded their passports.
"Oh, what a joke!" exclaimed one of them, putting his head out of the window and affecting the pronunciation of the day.

"Passpawts to dwive to Gwobois to call on citizen _Ba-as_?
'Word of fluted honor!' you're cwazy, fwend! Go on, dwiver!" The coachman whipped up his horses and the carriage passed without further opposition..