Her heart was hard as the nether millstone. She waited in the boudoir till the soft regular breathing told her Fantine was asleep, then, giving orders in passing that her mistress did not wish to be disturbed, she made her way back to her own room at the keep-house in order to mature further plans. In this she was hampered by ignorance as to what she had to frustrate. It would have been easy to walk down to the Crow and countermand the trap, but for aught she knew to the contrary, Marmaduke might be awaiting Mdlle. Le Grand there; so she judged it better to adhere as far as possible to what she did know, and this pointed to someone taking the trap, as ordered--whether to the Cross-keys or not, mattered little--and meeting Marmaduke. The very idea stirred her blood! Of course she must do it. She must go and beg him--nay, force him to reconsider an action which would for ever ruin him with his father. The colour came back to her face, the light to her eyes, with this decision, and her mind was busy at once with precautions. The Cross-keys, she knew, was held by new people who would not be likely to know her; still she must do her best to avoid recognition. To begin with she must secure retreat. She looked down the estuary, then at low tide, and little more than a still pool with a faint stream in it, and saw no boat at the further side. That, however, could easily be remedied. The castle boat lay this side, and it would not take her half an hour to row it over and swim back. By this time it was full seven o'clock, the shadows were lengthening and everyone at the castle would be busy with dinner. Now was her opportunity. Ten minutes afterwards in her bathing suit, but wrapped in her plaid, and with a lighted lantern at the bottom of the boat, for she remembered it would be dark on the return journey, she was pulling with long vigorous strokes to the little pier of seaweed-grown slippery rocks. To fasten the boat to the outermost ring on the shore, so that she could get at it at all tides, and hang the lantern over the bows as a guide to the whereabouts, did not take her long. That done, she folded the plaid away, placed it in the stern sheets, and slipped over the side like a seal. So much, then, was done. She must now go and carry up Fantine Le Grand's supper and then prepare herself to take the latter's place. She was relieved to find all well. Fantine lay comfortably snuggled up, very dead asleep it is true, but breathing quietly and regularly, and Marrion, with a lighter heart, for all it was still hard as the nether millstone, closed the door on her, secure that no interruption was likely to come from that side. And now to disguise herself so as to pass muster with the driver of the coach, should he happen to be an acquaintance. This was easy enough. High heels, silk stockings, a little lace, a furbelow or two, and a big black silk cloak go far in semi-darkness, and all these were to be found in her mother's wardrobe.