nger-about had
disappeared--there was not one to stare at the lady; though when we had
passed some one locked the gates behind us. Vigo called me up to
mademoiselle's left. Gilles was to loiter behind, far enough to seem
not to belong to us, near enough to come up at need. Thus, at a good
pace, mademoiselle stepping out as brave as any of us, we set out across
the city for the Porte St. Denis.

Our quarter was very quiet; we scarce met a soul. But afterward, as we
reached the neighbourhood of the markets, the streets grew livelier. Now
were we gladder than ever of Vigo's escort; for whenever we approached a
band of roisterers or of gentlemen with lights, mademoiselle sheltered
herself behind the equery's broad back, hidden as behind a tower. Once
the gallant M. de Champfleury, he who in pink silk had adorned Mme. de
Mayenne's salon, passed close enough to touch her. She heaved a sigh of
relief when he was by. For her own sake she had no fear; the midnight
streets, the open road to St. Denis, had no power to daunt her: but the
dread of being recognized and turned back rode her like a nightmare.

Close by the gate, Vigo bade us pause in the door of a shop while he
went forward to reconnoiter. Before long he returned.

"Bad luck, mademoiselle. Brissac's not on. I don't know the officer, but
he knows me, that's the worst of it. He told me this was not St. Quentin
night. Well, we must try the Porte Neuve."

But mademoiselle demurred:

"That will be out of our way, will it not, Vigo? It is a longer road
from the Porte Neuve to St. Denis?"

"Yes; but what to do? We must get through the walls."

"Suppose we fare no better at the Porte Neuve? If your Brissac is
suspected, he'll not be on at night. Vigo, I propose that we part
company here. They will not know Gilles and Felix at the gate, will
they?"

"No," Vigo said doubtfully; "but--"

"Then can we get through!" she cried. "They will not stop us, such
humble folk! We are going to the bedside of our dying mother at St.
Denis. Your name, Gilles?"

"Forestier, mademoiselle," he stammered, startled.

"Then are we all Forestiers--Gilles, Felix, and Jeanne. We can pass out,
Vigo; I am sure we can pass out. I am loath to part with you, but I fear
to go through the city to the Porte Neuve. My absence may be
discovered--I must place myself without the walls speedily.

"Well, mademoiselle may try it," Vigo gave reluctant consent. "If you
are refused, we can fall back on th