A Swiss leaned sleepily against one of the stone abutments which supported the barriers of the Porte Saint Antoine.

These barriers would not be raised for the general public till nine; yet the Swiss, rubbing his gummed eyes, saw the approach of three men, one of whom was leading a handsome Spanish jennet.

The three men walked unevenly, now and then laughing uproariously and slapping one another on the back.
Presently one stepped upon a slippery cobble and went sprawling into the snow, to the great merriment of his companions, who had some difficulty in raising the fallen man to his feet.
"Go along with you, Messieurs," said the Swiss enviously; "you are all drunk." "Go along yourself," said Georges, assuming a bacchanalian pose.
"What do you want ?" asked the Swiss, laughing.
"To pass this gentleman out of the city," said Georges; "and here is the order." "Very good," replied the Swiss.
The Chevalier climbed into the saddle.

Breton was to follow with the personal effects.

The barriers creaked, opened the way, and the Chevalier passed forth.