A moment later there was a crash. One of our horses went down, and the cabriolet--the lighter vehicle--upset, falling over to the right. As we came to a standstill I threw open the left-hand door saying: "Get out, madame! Quick! Into the wood!" She was out in an instant and, favored by the gloom, was at once lost to sight among the thick shrubbery. I shut the door and got out on the other side. It was very dark and raining hard as I saw Alphonse slip away into the wood shadows. Next I made out the driver of the cabriolet, who had been thrown from his seat and was running up to join us. In a moment I saw more clearly. The two coachmen were swearing, the horses down, the two vehicles, as it proved later, not much injured. A man was standing on the farther side of the roadway. I went around the fallen cab and said: "An unlucky accident, monsieur. I hope you are not hurt." He was holding a handkerchief to his head. "No, I am not much hurt." "I am well pleased," said I, "that it is no worse." I expected that the presumably jealous husband would at once make himself unpleasant. To my surprise, he stood a moment without speaking, and, as I fancied, a little dazed by his fall. Then he said: "There is a woman in that carriage." I was anxious to gain time for the fugitive, and replied: "Monsieur must be under some singular misapprehension. There is no one in my carriage." "I shall see for myself," he said sharply. "By all means. I am quite at a loss to understand you." I was sure that he would not be able to see her. He staggered as he moved past me, and was evidently more hurt than he was willing to admit. I went quickly to my coachman, who was busy with a broken trace. Here was the trouble--the risk. I bent over him and whispered, putting a napoleon in his hand, "There was no woman in the carriage." "Two," said the rascal. "Well, two if you will lie enough." "Good! This _sacre_ animal! Be quiet!" I busied myself helping the man, and a moment later the gentleman went by me and, as I expected, asked the driver. "There was a woman in your carriage?" "No, monsieur; the gentleman was alone, and you have smashed my carriage. _Sacre bleu!_ Who is to pay?" "That is of no moment. Here is my card." The man took it, but said doubtfully, "That's all well to-day, but to-morrow--" "Stuff! Your carriage is not damaged. Here, my man, a half-napoleon will more than pay." The driver, well pleased with this accumulation of unlooked-for good fortune, expressed himself contented. The gentleman stood, mopping the blood from his forehead, while the two drivers set up the cabriolet and continued to repair the broken harness. Glad of the delay, I too, stood still in the rain saying nothing. My companion of the hour was as silent. At last the coachmen declared themselves ready to leave. Upon this, the gentleman said to me: "You have denied, monsieur, that there was a woman with you. It is my belief that she has escaped into the wood."