came the
Marquise's voice.

"No, Madame," answered La Boulaye coldly, "I cannot."

"Oh, it is 'Madame' and 'Mademoiselle' now, eh? What have you done to
the man, child, to have earned us so much deference."

"May I remind Mademoiselle," put in La Boulaye firmly, "that time
presses, and that there is much to be done?"

"I am here, Monsieur" she answered, as without more ado, and heedless of
her mother's fresh remarks, she stepped from the carriage.

La Boulaye proffered his wrist to assist her to alight, then reclosed
the door, and led her slowly towards the stable.

"Where are the soldiers?" she whispered.

"Every soul in the inn is asleep," he answered. "I have drugged them
all, from the Captain down to the hostess. The only one left is the
ostler, who is sleeping in one of the outhouses here. Him you must take
with you, not only because it is not possible to drug him as well, but
also because the blame of your escape must rest on someone, and it may
as well rest on him as another."

"But why not on you?" she asked.

"Because I must remain."

"Ah!" It was no more than a breath of interrogation, and her face was
turned towards him as she awaited an explanation.

"I have given it much thought, Suzanne, and unless someone remains to
cover, as it were, your retreat, I am afraid that your flight might be
vain, and that you would run an overwhelming risk of recapture. You must
remember the resourcefulness of this fellow, Tardivet, and his power in
the country here. If he were to awake to the discovery that I had duped
him, he would be up and after us, and I make little doubt that it would
not be long ere he found the scent and ran us to earth. Tomorrow I shall
discover your flight and the villainy of the ostler, and I shall so
organise the pursuit that you shall not be overtaken."

There was a moment's pause, during which La Boulaye seemed to expect
some question. But none came, so he proceeded:

"Your original intention was to make for Prussia, where you say that
your father and your brother are awaiting you."

"Yes, Monsieur. Beyond the Moselle--at Treves."

"You must alter your plans," said he shortly. "Your mother, no doubt,
will insist upon repairing thither, and I will see that the road is
left open for her escape. At Soignies you, Suzanne, can hire yourself a
berline, that will take you back to France."

"Back to France?" she echoed.

"Yes, back to France. That is the unlikeliest road on which to