“Certainly I mean it,” said Gilbert evenly. “I must have some information upon those two points; all the more if, as I believe, we are on the edge of a great crisis. But I cannot go myself. There may be a riot here any day; you know that in the affair at Cholet on Sunday and Monday the tricolour was trodden underfoot and two officers wounded. At Nantes, by the indications I will give you, you will easily find out what I want to know. But there is danger in going there.” “Of course,” said Louis, and in his voice was a faint indication that the fact was not unwelcome. “You will not be able to get a passport; the Directory have stopped issuing them until the recruiting is over.” “I will do without,” replied the Vicomte, undisturbed, and he sat down, gathering the folds of silk about him. Château-Foix still looked hard at him. “The troubles at Beaupréau have spread to Challans,” he said drily. “But I am not going to Challans.” “No; and do not go to Nantes by the main-road. But, if it is convenient to you, I will give you my instructions here and now.” The Marquis stretched out an arm, pulled another chair towards him, and placing it between them spread out a map of Loire-Inférieure. Then he plunged without hesitation or embarrassment into a lucid exposition of his requirements at Nantes and of the safest routes thither. No just idea of their owners’ feelings could have been gathered by a spectator seeing the two heads bent so amicably together. “There is a last thing,” said Gilbert at length, folding up the map and giving it to his cousin. “When you return, do not come straight here, but go to that little inn near La Peyratte, the ‘Etoile de Vendée.’ I will meet you there. I might have to send you off again, and it is just as well that you should not return to the château in the interval. And now I will have some food sent up to you here, and order a horse to be ready. Will you ride yours or one of mine?” “Saladin, please,” returned Louis, ringing the bell. “I will be ready in half an hour.” And directly Gilbert had left the room he tore off his dressing-gown, rolled it into a ball, pitched it violently on to the bed, and, standing in the middle of the room, slim and tense, stretched out his arms and said aloud, with heart-felt meaning: “Thank God—oh, thank God!” * * * * * * It was a dark and clear night when Saladin was led round to the door. Gilbert came to see off his messenger. “You have everything?” “Everything,” answered Louis. And then he bent from the saddle and whispered into Gilbert’s ear: “Take heart! I may never come back again. . . .” His taunt had even more success than he had anticipated. The Marquis, stung, seized his bridle violently. “My God! you don’t think that is why I am sending you?” And Louis, who thought no such thing, looked down on him with a mocking smile. “No? . . . Au revoir, then: in eight days, at the place you named.”