e no
doubt the whole terrified household was now assembled. He had no fear
of being followed; since his confrontation with his own likeness in
the mysterious portrait, he understood everything. The apparently
supernatural character of his visitation was made plain; his ruffled
vanity was soothed--his vindication was complete. He laughed to himself
and rolled about, until in his suppressed merriment the rose fell from
his bosom, and--he stopped! Its freshness and fragrance recalled
the innocent young girl he had frightened. He remembered her gentle,
pleading voice, and his cheek flushed. Well, he had done the best he
could in bringing her back to the house--at the risk of being taken for
a burglar--and she was safe now! If that stupid French parson didn't
know the difference between a living man and a dead and painted one, it
wasn't his fault. But he fell asleep with the rose in his fingers.

He was awake at the first streak of dawn. He again bathed his horse's
shoulder, saddled, but did not mount him, as the beast, although better,
was still stiff, and Dick wished to spare him for the journey to still
distant Havre, although he had determined to lie over that night at the
first wayside inn. Luckily for him, the disturbance at the chateau had
not extended to the forest, for Dick had to lead his horse slowly and
could not have escaped; but no suspicion of external intrusion seemed to
have been awakened, and the woodland was, evidently, seldom invaded.

By dint of laying his course by the sun and the exercise of a little
woodcraft, in the course of two hours he heard the creaking of a
hay-cart, and knew that he was near a traveled road. But to his
discomfiture he presently came to a high wall, which had evidently
guarded this portion of the woods from the public. Time, however, had
made frequent breaches in the stones; these had been roughly filled in
with a rude abatis of logs and treetops pointing towards the road. But
as these were mainly designed to prevent intrusion into the park rather
than egress from it, Dick had no difficulty in rolling them aside and
emerging at last with his limping steed upon the white high-road.
The creaking cart had passed; it was yet early for traffic, and Dick
presently came upon a wine-shop, a bakery, a blacksmith's shop, laundry,
and a somewhat pretentious cafe and hotel in a broader space which
marked the junction of another road.

Directly before it, however, to his consternation, wer