uld have been lost."

"Conde is still in prison," I remarked meaningly.

"He will soon be free. The people are rising, and Mazarin will not
dare to keep him in captivity. Ah, my friend, the tables will be
turned then!"

"I wish these useless squabbles were at an end," said Marie.

"Have patience, child," exclaimed her aunt, "all will come right in
time," and, turning to me, she added, "how long am I expected to remain
at Aunay?"

"The Cardinal mentioned a month or two."

"Good faith!" she exclaimed with a toss of her head, "the Cardinal will
be over the borders before then!"

"It may be so," I admitted, not anxious to dispute the point.

We were still several miles from Aunay, when the sergeant, who rode
with two men in the rear, trotted forward briskly, and reining up my
horse, I waited for the soldier to speak.

"Are we likely to be pursued, monsieur?" asked he.

"It is just possible. Why?"

"Because there are a score of horsemen on our track. Pierre, who has
keen sight, declares they are cavaliers, young bloods most likely, from
Paris."

In a few minutes they came within sight, and, as they approached more
closely, I recognised that Pierre's description was correct. They
certainly were not ordinary soldiers, and the only doubt remaining was
whether they were friends or foes.

The grizzled sergeant decided the question for me.

"Frondeurs, monsieur," he announced with the utmost coolness.

"Then they intend to rescue our prisoners. Can we throw them off?"

"We can try, monsieur, but they will probably overtake us in ten
minutes."

"Then we must fight, though the odds are terribly against us."

"As monsieur pleases; we have only to obey orders," and without another
word he recalled the soldiers who were in advance.

"What is it?" cried Madame Coutance, excitedly, as I returned to the
carriage, "what has happened?"

"Nothing as yet," I answered smiling; "but some of your party have
followed us from Paris. For what purpose I leave you to guess."

She clapped her hands and laughed like a child; it just suited her to
be the central figure in any kind of adventure.

"A rescue!" she cried. "Marie, do you hear? Our brave cavaliers think
we are being dragged to prison, and have come to rescue us. Ah, the
fine fellows! How vexed Mazarin will be! Perhaps he imagined I had no
friends!"

"Their folly can only do harm, madame," I replied.

"Chut! what absurdity! It is a rich joke, and Sca