"Why, describe them, to be sure," replied Beatrice. "Here we are, take an exact picture of us. You cannot do better; and if you say, that your mistress went away in our company, you will but say the truth. Now I bethink me, you may as well add, that you think you have seen the page somewhere before, and rather believe that he is in the service of the Count d'Aubin--which is true too, Eugenie, when all things are wisely considered, though we are serving him against his will. But now, my pretty abbé--I shall call you Eugene for the future--we must lose no more time. Run down, Caroline, and see that the door at the foot of the back stairs is open, and give a glance round the court-yard, to make sure that it is clear." The girl, with a ready promptitude in man[oe]uvring, for which French _soubrettes_ are not unjustly famed, required no farther explanations, having that internal consciousness of great resources of intrigue, which rendered her quite confident of being able to make up a new story, or to mend the old one for the occasion, in case anything in Beatrice's plan went wrong. Tripping away then through the unused apartments, to the back staircase that led out into the court, she descended to the bottom, and gently unclosing the door, to the extent of about a hand's breadth, closed it again as quietly, and returned to the two ladies with the unpleasant tidings, that all the male attendants belonging to the house were standing under the arch of the _porte-cochère_, apparently talking over the events of the evening. "Get ye down then, Caroline, to the _maître de hôtel_," cried Beatrice; "bid him express your mistress's thanks to the honest fellows for their attachment; and tell him, in her name, to call them into some room, where their voices will not be heard by the spies of the League, and to give them each a bottle of the best Burgundy, to drink to their lady's health and deliverance, and confusion to her enemies and persecutors." With a smile at the lady's readiness and resources, the _soubrette_ ran off to obey; and in a few minutes returned with the better news, that all the men were safely housed, with bottles before them which would occupy them for some time. Beatrice then drew Eugenie's arm through her own, and led the way towards the staircase, followed by the _suivante_, for the purpose of closing the doors behind them. Eugenie felt that her happiness for life was at stake; that she was taking the only means to save herself from oppression, persecution, and, in all probability, ultimate misery. She felt that the object was worth any exertion; that if ever she displayed energy, resolution, and courage, this was the moment in which they were all most needed: and yet it were vain to say, that her heart did not palpitate; that her knees did not shake; and that her trembling hand did not feel like a piece of ice, even in the midst of a hot and sultry night of August.