of Buenos Aires. The report spread that the Alcalde was going to land, and that he was in pursuit of the murderers of my lord the Grand Inquisitor. The prudent old woman saw at once what was to be done.
“You cannot run away,” said she to Cunégonde, “and you have nothing to fear, for it was not you that killed my lord; besides the Governor who loves you will not suffer you to be ill-treated; therefore stay.”
She then ran immediately to Candide.
“Fly,” said she, “or in an hour you will be burnt.”
There was not a moment to lose; but how could he part from Cunégonde, and where could he flee for shelter?