CHAPTER 10It would be difficult to render the declarations of gratitude Ihad from Saint-Florent. He knew not in what terms to express histhanks; but we had no time to talk; it was a question of flight.With a dextrous movement, I retrieve the pocketbook, return it tohim, and treading softly we walk through the copse, leaving thehorse for fear the sound of his hoofs might rouse the men; with allpossible dispatch we reach the path which is to lead us out of theforest. We had the good luck to be out of it by daybreak, withouthaving been followed by anyone; before ten o'clock we were inLuzarches and there, free from all anxiety, we thought of nothingbut resting ourselves . There are moments in life when one findsthat despite one's riches, which may be great, one neverthelesslacks what is needed
