Marie Josephine was alert in a moment. They must make the best of the darkness and of their long rest. She judged that Jean had told the driver to ask her, not knowing himself what she wanted to do. “We’ll go on, thank you kindly. Come, Jean,” she replied, climbing down the side of the cart. Jean jumped off the driver’s seat and waved his cap up at him. “That was a good ride and I slept enough to last a week when those old hens got quiet!” He laughed up at the driver as he spoke. Suddenly a voice called through the darkness, “Are you Champar, the driver to the Calais road?” The next moment a boy with a round, honest face came up to the cart. “That’s me,” the coach driver answered. “Well, do you go near Pigeon Valley?” the boy asked. “Not often, about once a month. I take in that way on my next route, and then go straight on toward Calais, but I have to détour so much now it’s the hardest trip I have. I have to keep out of the way of cannon, my boy, and the army, and maybe fighting!” The driver spoke importantly. “Well, anyway you don’t have any of that as far as Pigeon Valley.” The boy came close to the cart and spoke in a low tone. Marie Josephine could not hear. Evidently the man made some emphatic statement and the boy replied in a louder tone, “Never mind, if you don’t go straight there with the coach.” Then he handed the driver something white which looked like a letter. Marie Josephine heard him say: “I’ll see that he gets it safely.” With that, Champar, the coach driver, whipped up his horses, waved his whip at them all, and drove on. CHAPTER XVIII VIVI SEES THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GATES Raoul kicked one leg against the other. He was ill at ease, as any one could have seen had they taken the trouble to watch him. Soufflot, the seed shopman, seated on an overturned box in the market gardener’s room, was holding forth as usual to some of his cronies. Dian sat apart from the others, his hands folded on his knees. Raoul came up to him, and stood before him, looking up at him. He had gone with his master to the country the day after he had made fun of Humphrey at the West Barricade, more than a fortnight ago now, and so he had not seen Dian since. “Good day, master shepherd. It’s a long time since we’ve walked out together, but now that you’re acquainted with the city perhaps you’ll not want my company.” He hesitated a moment and then he colored all over his honest face as he went on, “I’m none too proud of taunting the funny fat man at the West Barricade.”