emembered reading in the paper of the preceding night of the
escape of a dangerous lunatic from the state asylum, that was situated a
few miles from Oakdale. This must be the man. Grace decided that he
answered the description the paper had given. She realized that she would
have to be careful not to anger him. It would require strategy to get
clear of him.

"It's time you remembered me," returned Napoleon Bonaparte, petulantly.
"They told me that you had died years ago, but I knew better. Now that I
have found you, we'd better start for France at once. Have you your court
robes with you? And what have you done with your crown? You are dressed
like a peasant." He was disdainfully eyeing her brown, linen gown.

In spite of her danger, Grace could scarcely repress a laugh. It all
seemed so ludicrous. Then a sudden thought seized her.

"You see, I have nothing fit to travel in," she said. "Suppose you wait
here for me while I go back to town and get my things? then I can appear
properly at court."

"No you don't," said Napoleon promptly, a cunning expression stealing into
his face. "If you go you'll never come back. I need your influence at the
royal court, and I can't afford to lose you. I am about to conquer the
world. I should have done it long ago, if those villains hadn't exiled me,
and locked me up."

He walked back and forth, muttering to himself still keeping his eye on
Grace for fear that she might escape.

"Oh, what shall I do?" thought the terrified girl. "Goodness knows what
he'll think of next. He may keep me here until dark, and I shall die if I
have to stay here until then, I must get away."

Grace knew that it would be sheer folly to try to run. Her captor would
overtake her before she had gone six yards, not to mention the fit of rage
her attempted flight would be likely to throw him into.

She anxiously scanned the neighboring fields in the hope of seeing old
Jean, the hunter. He was usually not far away. But look as she might, she
could discover no sign of him. There was only one thing in her favor. It
would be light for some time yet. Being June, the darkness would not
descend for two hours. She must escape, but how was she to do it!

She racked her brain for some means of deliverance, but received no
inspiration. Again she drew out her watch. Then her eye rested for a
second on the little key that hung on her watch chain. It was the key to
the lean-to in which David kept his aeroplane. Like a