der to cover and aid Molembrais' flight in the desperate
possibility of his escape from Valmy.

Unconsciously following the precedent set by Commines, they drew rein
while it was yet dark. Daylight, both knew, would show Valmy in the
distance. But as they crawled at a foot's pace in the yet darker
shadow of a dense pine-wood edging the highway, the east a sullen grey
ribbed by a narrow cloud poised upon the horizon like an inverted giant
monolith, there sounded behind them the remote pad, pad of rapid hoofs
muffled by dust. It was the very dead hour of night, when even nature
is steeped in the quiet of a child's sleep, and the rhythmic beat broke
the stillness like the throbbing of a heart.

"This way and be silent."

La Mothe felt rather than saw his bridle caught, wrenching his horse
backward into a gloom so heavy that those behind them would have passed
them by but that Grey Roland, chafing at the pressure on the bit,
tossed his head and set the cheek-chains jangling. Instantly the
foremost rider checked, and a voice called out of the darkness, "Who is
there? Stephen! Stephen!" It was Ursula de Vesc. With a touch of
the spur La Mothe drove Grey Roland forward, dragging the rein from the
hand which held it.

"Ursula! You! Why are you here? Who is with you?"

"Where else should I be?" she answered between laughter and a sob.
"Did you think I could wait, breaking my heart alone in Amboise?
Besides, there is no danger. Father John is with me, and now we shall
be together to the end."

"But the Dauphin?"

"Your orders are cancelled, don't you remember? There is no longer any
fear for the Dauphin. And if there was," she added half defiantly, "I
would be here all the same."

From the shadow of the pines La Mothe's captor rode slowly forward.
"For what purpose, mademoiselle?"

"To tell the King what I know Monsieur La Mothe will never tell
him--that he has twice saved the Dauphin's life against that would-be
murderer, Molembrais. And when all France hears the story, as all
France shall, not even the King will dare to lay a finger on the most
loyal gentleman from Artois to Navarre. My one fear was I might be too
late, and all night have ridden in terror lest you should reach Valmy
before me."

"But there is no entering Valmy in the dark."

"Monsieur La Mothe's signet----"

"La Mothe, you never told me that."

"Why should I?" replied La Mothe. "I owed you no information. You
took your instru