“In less than an hour,” continued the priest, “the soldiers sent in pursuit of the fugitives will be here. Not a word must be said concerning what has happened this evening. Whoever questions you must be led to suppose that I went away with the baron, and returned alone. Not one of you must have seen Mademoiselle Lacheneur. We are going to conceal her. Remember, my friends that all is lost if the slightest suspicion of her presence here is roused. Should the soldiers question you, try and convince them that M. Maurice has not left the house this evening.” The priest paused for a moment, trying to think if he had forgotten any other precaution that human prudence could suggest; then he added again. “One word more; to see you standing about at this hour of the night will awaken suspicion at once. However, we must plead in justification the alarm we feel at the baron’s prolonged absence. Besides, Madame d’Escorval is ill and that will furnish another excuse. She must go to bed at once, for by this means she may escape all awkward questioning. As for you, Maurice, run and change your clothes; and above all, wash your hands, and sprinkle some scent over them.” Those who heard the abbe were so impressed with the imminence of the danger, that they were more than willing to obey his orders. As soon as Marie-Anne could be moved, she was carried to a tiny garret under the roof; while Madame d’Escorval retired to her own room, and the servants went back to the kitchen. Maurice and the abbe remained alone in the drawing-room. They were both cruelly oppressed by anxiety, and shared the opinion that the Baron d’Escorval had been made a prisoner. In that event, the abbe Midon felt that all he could usefully attempt, was to try and save Maurice from any charge of complicity. “And who knows,” he muttered, “the son’s freedom may save the father’s life.” At that moment, his meditations were interrupted by a violent pull at the bell of the front gate. The gardener could be heard hastening to answer the summons, the gate grated on its hinges, and then the measured tread of soldiers resounded over the gravel. Half-a-minute later a loud voice commanded: “Halt!” The priest looked at Maurice and saw that he was as pale as death. “Be calm,” he entreated, “don’t be alarmed. Don’t lose your self-possession--and, above all, don’t forget my instructions.” “Let them come,” replied Maurice. “I am prepared.”