Her devilish cunning had overreached itself, and she sat there a pitiable object, with the ruin she had herself caused around her. I gave her one look, and turned to De Lorgnac. "There is just time. We may just do it. Come!" And leaving the miserable woman with her sin we hurried from the room. I will not stop to tell, indeed I never knew, how we pushed through the crowds in the waiting-rooms and gained the outer courts; but ten minutes later De Lorgnac and I, with Pierrebon at our heels, were galloping on the Paris road, hoping almost against hope, for Simon had nearly two hours' start of us, and our horses had been ridden far and fast. Nevertheless, the stout heart of Lizette never flinched, and Cartouche, De Lorgnac's great grey, raced bravely by her side. We rode in silence, exchanging no speech, though now and again we uttered a word of encouragement to our horses. Crossing the bridge of Melun Pierrebon's nag failed him, and we lost him for the time. At the little village of Cesson we drew rein to breathe our horses, and here we had news of Simon. He had passed about an hour ago, riding easily in the direction of Lieusaint, and keeping to the high road. At last we were off once more, and leaving the plain of La Brie entered the hilly country that sloped downwards to the valley of the Yeres, and on pulling up for a moment on the crest of a hill that lay to the northwest of Lieusaint we got a glimpse of Simon. It was De Lorgnac who saw him first. "There!" he said, pointing before him into the valley. And craning forward I looked too, and saw far in the distance a white speck--a mere speck--moving rapidly on the cross road to Montgeron, and then we lost him behind a line of trees. "He is cutting off the angle!" I exclaimed. "Quick!" And I put Lizette down the slope; but De Lorgnac called out after me: "He is lost if he does that--he will meet the marsh of Brunoy, and must come back--keep to the road!" And, ding, dong, we galloped on the white track, white with dust ourselves, our gallant horses kept up by their own matchless courage, and by that alone. "He must turn back from the marsh, and we get him at Villaneuve," shouted De Lorgnac to me as we hammered along, pointing as he spoke to the wooded height that rose to our front above the willow-fringed Yeres. But he little knew Simon of Orrain. I made no reply; and leaning forward in the saddle stroked the foam-wet neck that reached out before me, and felt Lizette answer to my touch, as though she knew that life and death lay in her speed. As we raced on I watched the plain to our left, where Simon had vanished, with hot eyes that reached everywhere--eyes that missed nothing. But he was not to be seen, and hope began to spring up within me that we had beaten him. I shook up the reins, and urged Lizette on faster; but the brave heart was doing her best.