‘Mademoiselle Cecile is very happy with us; it is a new game we are playing,’--he turned again and smiled at the child, who waved her hand and laughed back at him,--‘and we are very fond of Mademoiselle. But we have thought it may be best for everyone that we should continue to be free in another land--across the seas. Monsieur le Gouverneur will therefore cause to be prepared for us, in the little bay of Pontet to the east, a good seaworthy cutter of not less than ten tons, with provisions and water for twenty days; also he will in his kindness see that the road is clear for us to embark at midnight to-morrow, and he will give us--will he not?--his word of honour that he will not cause us to be pursued. Monsieur’s word of honour is his bond. If Monsieur will come to the little bay of Pontet at twelve on that night he will find Mademoiselle in the little cave close by the bay. Should Monsieur not see his way to accept these terms, he will do as he pleases, always remembering that Mademoiselle is with us, and that what happens to Jean Jacques or his friend Pierre, happens, unfortunately, to Mademoiselle also.’ So ending, Jean Jacques bared his teeth again in a genial smile. The Governor groaned--his situation dawned slowly on him in the fulness of its horror--he clenched his teeth and groaned. His duty drew him one way, his feelings (and he was conscious then how overpoweringly) dragged him the other. He bowed his head, and pondered painfully. Jean Jacques waited some time in silent politeness, then he said: ‘Monsieur will understand that to my friend and myself our liberty is as dear as to Monsieur is Monsieur’s daughter: also Monsieur shall, if he pleases, have the night and the day in which to reflect and prepare; and in order that there may be no mistake as to the preparations, it will be best if Monsieur will return himself and give us his answer at two hours before midnight to-morrow.’ The Governor was conscious, with a feeling of rage and shame, that the convict knew only too surely that the game was in his hands; he raised his head with a jerk, and said, sharply and sternly: ‘It shall be so--at ten to-morrow night you shall have my answer.’ Then with one look at his little daughter calling merrily, and blowing kisses to him, and a muttered ‘Good-night, my darling, be a good brave child,’ he stepped firmly away, turning for a moment to say fiercely, ‘Be careful of her, men; if but one hair of her head be harmed, woe betide you.’ Then he marched heroically down the hill, and hastened to his home to hide his deadly agony of doubt and fear. * * * * *