I made a short cut across the graveyard of Saint Francis, or I must have met the escort.

Oh, perdition!" he cried, smiting his clenched right hand into his open left.

"To have so much good work undone by a moment's unguardedness." Then abruptly he turned on his heels.

"I am going to Monsieur de Tressan," said he over his shoulder, and went out.
As he reached the threshold of the porch, the escort rode up the street, returned at last.

At sight of him the sergeant broke into a cry of surprise.
"At least you are safe, monsieur," he said.