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IT was not until Péron was ten years old that he made a journey outside the gates of Paris. Jacques des Horloges was accustomed to go from one grand house to another, to regulate and mend the great clocks, for his skill was held in high esteem, and such errands frequently took him beyond the city limits. But he had never taken the boy with him until one day, as he was setting out, Péron begged so hard to be allowed to accompany him that he consented. The stout Norman horse which Jacques always rode stood saddled at the door, and the clockmaker had just finished packing his saddle-bags when the child ran out, eager and importunate for the privilege of a ride beyond the gates. Michel listened to the petitioner with some amusement and a good deal of doubt. He stood hesitating, his hand on the saddle and his eyes on the pleading face. He was wavering between a desire to gratify the boy and a doubt of the wisdom of yielding to persuasion; and while he was still undecided his wife came to the door.
"Péron wants to go," he said, smiling, "and I have the mind to take him, only" -- he paused, still looking at the child -- "I am going to Poissy and beyond."