on giving you a slice of the cake, so you have a good means of existence before you, the two coffee-houses will be milch cows to you, whence you may draw your four or six crowns a day." In spite of the accommodating propensity of my conscience, I was desirous of replying, and making some observations—"You are a child," said my honourable friend; "we do not talk of robbery here—it is fortune only; and believe me, matters pass in the drawing-room as they do at the tavern—there they bubble, that is the word; and the merchant, who in the morning whilst at his desk would think it a crime to rob you of an hour's interest, would very quietly cheat you at the gaming-table in the evening." How could I answer such unanswerable arguments? I had nothing to reply but to keep the money, which I did.
These small dividends, joined to a remittance of a hundred crowns from my mother, enabled me to dash a little, and to show my gratitude to Emily, whose devotion to me I was not insensible of. Matters were in this agreeable train when I was one evening arrested at the Theatre du Parc, by several police-officers, and desired to produce my papers. This would have been a dangerous exhibition, and I said that I had none. They conducted me to the Madelonettes; and the next morning, at my examination, I found that I was unknown, and they had mistaken me for another person. I said that my name was Rousseau, born at Lille, and added, that I had come to Brussels on pleasure, and had not thought it expedient to provide myself with papers. I then asked to be conducted to Lille, at my own expense, by two gendarmes, which was granted, and for a few crowns my escort agreed that poor Emily should accompany me.
Having left Brussels, I was so far safe; but it was still more important that I should not reach Lille, where I should be certainly recognised as a deserter. Escape must be made at all risks, and this was Emily's opinion when I communicated my intention to her, and we
