We are three in number, we like one another, and the night is lovely.

Look yonder, do you not see the moon slowly rising, silvering the topmost branches of the chestnuts and the oaks.

Oh, beautiful walk! sweet liberty! exquisite soft turf of the woods, the happiness which your friendship confers upon me! let us walk arm in arm towards those large trees.

Out yonder all are at this moment seated at table and fully occupied, or preparing to adorn themselves for a set and formal promenade; horses are being saddled, or harnessed to the carriages--the queen's mules or Madame's four white ponies.

As for ourselves, we shall soon reach some retired spot where no eyes can see us and no step follow ours.