“As this was directed to the care of Brunel, who knew of the proposed visit, it was considered all right by that functionary, and by him passed to Anna, who trembled so violently that she could scarcely read the message, which was exactly what Eugenie had said it should be, and early to-morrow she was going away from what had really been a prison so long, notwithstanding that in some respects it had been a pleasant home. But she had no regrets at leaving it, for every spot was so closely connected with the man whose name she bore, and from whom she was fleeing, that she loathed it utterly, just as she loathed the elegant dresses with which her closets were filled, and not one of which she took with her. She packed her jewels, however; her diamonds, and pearls, and topazes, for she might need the money they would bring. To Celine, who had expected to go as maid, she had said that she did not need her, and had quieted her with a set of coral and a handsome evening dress. “And now the morning had actually dawned, and nothing happened to prevent our travelers from passing out from Chateau d’Or to the carriage, which conveyed them to the station in time for the early train from Marseilles; but Anna was so weak and nervous that she was lifted bodily into the railway carriage, and continued in a half-unconscious state for nearly an hour, while she was whirled rapidly away from the scene of so much misery. Avignon was reached at last, and Eugenie’s face was the first to greet them as they passed from the station, and then Anna fainted quite away, for now it seemed sure that freedom and America were just within her grasp. “‘Is it sure, and where is he?’ Anna asked, when she could speak at all, and Eugenie replied in her broken English, interspersed with French: “‘_Ou est-il? a Paris, mais, mon Dieu_, such time I have had. I get him to write for you to come next week, late some day in the week, and then I telegraph myself for you to start to-day, and last night he dine with me, and I tell him I must go to Normandy for one, two, or three days. I don’t know sure, and so I cheat him and come here to meet you with Madame Verwest. _Ciel_, why is she here?’ “‘I go with Madame Haverleigh to America,’ was Madame Verwest’s reply; whereupon Eugenie exclaimed: “‘_Vous allez en Amerique! c’est impossible! Ou est l’argent? Nous n’en avons pas assez pour vous._’ “‘But I have more than enough to pay my passage, and I am going,’ madame said, so firmly and decidedly that Eugenie merely shrugged her shoulders, and replied: “‘_Eh bien_, I fear bad.’ “‘You need not, you need not, for she is the truest friend; she would never betray us,’ Anna cried. “‘And if she did!’ Eugenie replied, with a threatening gleam in her flashing eyes which meant much, but did not intimidate Madame Verwest, who knew her own business and interests better than any one else.