ve me paid twice its value, to suffer me look on your beautiful
face!" was the gallant answer, with a low bow. "But one more word, and
I go, fair maid, and de sun go from me wid you. De porter, he is what
of a man?--and has he any dog?"

"Oh ay, that he hath; but I can peace the big dog well enough, an' I did
but know when it should be. Well, as for the manner of man, he's
pleasant enough where he takes, look you; but if he reckons you're after
aught ill, you'll not come round him in no wise."

"Ah, he is wise man. I see. Well, my fairest of maidens, you shall, if
it please you, keep de big dog looking de oder way at nine o'clock of de
even, de night Sir Godfrey goes; and de Lady Princess have not so fair a
crespine for her hair as you shall win, so to do. Dat is Monday night,
trow?"

"Nay, 'tis Tuesday. Well, I'll see; I'll do what I can."

"Fair maid, if I t'ought it possible, I would say, de saints make you
beautifuller! But no; it is not possible. So I say, de saints make you
happier, and send you all dat you most desire! Good-night."

"Good even, Master Packman, and good befall you. You'll not forget that
crespine?"

"Forget? Impossible! Absolute impossible! I bear your remembrance on
mine heart all de days of my life. I adore you! Farewell."

When Meg, the next minute, joined Kate under the tree, there was no more
sign of Ivo than if he had been the airy creature of a dream.

The little pedlar had escaped dexterously, and only just in time. He
hid for a moment beneath the shade of a friendly shrub, and, as soon as
he saw Meg's back turned, ran downwards into the Derby road as lithely
as a cat, and took the way to that city, where he recounted to his
companions, when other people were supposed to be asleep, the
arrangement he had made to free the Countess.

"Thou art sore lacking in discretion, my son," said Father Eloy, whose
normal condition was that of a private confessor in Bretagne, and whose
temporary disguise was that of a horse-dealer. "Such a maid as thou
describest is as certain to want and have a confidant as she is to wear
that trumpery. Thou wilt find--or, rather, we shall find--the whole
house up and alert, and fully aware of our intention."

Ivo's shoulders were shrugged very decidedly.

"_Ha, chetife_!" cried he; "she will want the crespine."

"Not so much as she will want to impart her secret," answered the
priest. "Who whispered to the earth, `Midas has long ears'?