"It’s a beautiful plan!" exclaimed Mr. Desmond. He had his betrothed’s hand in his once more, and was kissing it unrebuked. "My dear, we were made for each other, for it’s a scheme after my own heart! Madame, my cousin, will you come with us?" "Oh, yes, as chaperon, and then we needn’t bother about getting married," said Marguerite, kissing her. "That’s not what I meant at all," observed Mr. Desmond reproachfully, and Aline was obliged to laugh. "No, no, ma mie; not even to keep you out of so mad a scrape," she said, and Madelon nodded again. "No, no," she echoed. "That would be a pretty state of affairs. There is Citizen Dangeau to be thought of. Deputies’ wives must not emigrate." Aline drew away from Marguerite, and caught Madelon by the arm. "What’s to be done?" she asked. "Why, let them go." "But the plan ’s sheer folly." Madelon shrugged. "Madame Aline," she said in a low voice, "look at them. Is it any use talking? and we waste time. Once I saw a man at a fair. There was a rope stretched between two booths, and he walked on it. Then a woman in the crowd screamed out, ’Oh, he will fall!’ and he looked down at her, went giddy, and fell. He broke his leg; but if no one had called out he would not have fallen." "You mean?" "It will be like walking on the rope for Monsieur and little Ma’mselle Marguerite, all the way until they get out of France. If they think they can do it,—well, they say God helps those who cannot help themselves, and perhaps they will get across safely; but if they get frightened, if they think of the danger, they will be like the man who looked down and grew giddy, and pouf!—it will be all over." "But this added risk——" "I do not think there is much risk. The curé is timid; for his own sake he will say nothing. If Anne hears anything, she will shut her ears; and, Madame Aline, the great thing is for them to get away. I tell you, I am afraid of my father. He watches us. I do not like his eyes." She broke off, looking troubled; and Desmond stopped whispering to Marguerite and turned to them. "Well, you good Madelon, we shall be off your mind to-morrow. Tell us where this curé lives; set us in the way, and we ’ll be off as soon as may be. My dear cousin, believe me that frown will bring you lines ten years before they are due. Do force a smile, and wish us joy." "To-night!" exclaimed Aline. "Yes, that’s best," said Madelon decidedly. "Little Ma’mselle knows that she has been a welcome guest, but she ’s best away, and that ’s the truth. If we had n’t been watched, Jean Jacques would have driven her out in the cart a week ago." "Watched! By whom?" Desmond’s eyes were alert. "By my father, Mathieu Leroux, the inn-keeper." "Ah! well, we ’ll be away by morning—in fact we ’ll be moving now. Marguerite is ready. Faith, now I ’ve found the comfort of travelling without mails, I ’m ready to swear I ’ll never take them again."