solutely impossible to remain at St. Lazare any longer; that the night was a favorable time for leaving it unobserved, and that I expected him, as my friend, to consent to open the doors for me, or to lend me the keys so that I might open them myself.
This polite suggestion naturally took him by surprise. He stood gazing at me blankly for some minutes without making any reply. As I had no time to lose, I went on to assure him hastily that, deeply as I appreciated all his kindness, liberty must be the first consideration with every man, especially with one who, like me, was unjustly deprived
of it, and that I was resolved to regain mine that very night, at whatever cost. Fearing that it might occur to him to raise his voice and call for help, I showed him the unanswerable argument in favor of silence which I was holding concealed under my coat.
"A pistol!" he exclaimed; "what, my son, do you intend to take my life in return for all the indulgence I have shown you?"
"God forbid," I replied; "you are too prudent and reasonable to drive me to that necessity; but I am determined to escape, and so fully am I resolved upon it that, if my purpose be defeated through any fault of yours, your fate is sealed!"
