“Here? Brussels, do you mean? He has not, to my knowledge, been in Brussels these six months--no, not since January, when he came to meet the demoiselle Théroigne on her return from the Austrian prisons, and conducted her back to the capital.” “Théroigne!” exclaimed Ned in faint amazement. “So she is called, I believe,” went on the placid creature, oblivious of the little emotion she had caused. “Monsieur has heard of her, no doubt. She is beautiful, and of easy virtue, they say. At her house in the Rue de Rohan the most violent propagandists assemble nightly to discuss the overthrow of the present social conditions. I wish they would leave them alone: they are very reasonable, I think--to all at least who have assured incomes. She is quite a force in Paris, this woman. They sent her some time last year _en mission_ to these Netherlands to preach the new religion. But she was arrested by the agents of the Emperor and conveyed to Vienna, whence she was dismissed no later than last January. Monseigneur was hunting with M. de Lawoestine at the time, and he heard somehow, and came straight on to Brussels, and carried the demoiselle Théroigne away.” “And that was the last you have seen of him? Yet your mother had no doubt but that he was in this neighbourhood.” “Oh, maman?” cried madame, with a tiny shrug of her shoulders. “But she is as full of fancies as this mushroom is of grubs.” “Indeed,” said Ned, quite dumfoundered, “I think you must be misinformed as to monsieur le duc.” “Very well,” she said indifferently. “It is possible, of course. M. de Lawoestine is not communicative, nor am I curious. There is no reason why they should not be in Liége together at this very moment.” There was every reason, however, against such a meeting; but madame had not the shadow of a diplomatic acumen. “I must follow your husband to Liége, then,” said Ned. “You will at least lie here for the night, monsieur?” “A thousand pardons, madame. My business is of the most pressing; and you yourself confess an ignorance as to the movements of monsieur le comte.” “_Mon Dieu_! I never trouble my head about them.” “With madame’s permission I will bid her adieu at the end of the meal.” “As you will, monsieur. And if you do not find monsieur le duc in Liége?” “Then I shall go on to Paris.” “I hope, then, monsieur’s passports are in order?” “They take me into France by way of the Low Countries. Madame, your mother, is responsible for them.” “She is at any rate a woman of business. Nevertheless, the borders are disturbed. I wish monsieur a very fair journey. I trust he will not be struck by the lightning; but--Mother of Christ! I think there is a storm coming such as we have never seen. I shall take some peaches and some cake, and sit in the cellars till it is over.” * * * * * * * *