The coach driver talked very fast as they went through the woods. They must have some sort of a disguise, all of them. They could wear the servants’ clothes, and have, at least, the look of decent farmer people. They must be made to understand that they must come with them in order to save their lives, and that they must do as they are told. This pleased Grigge very much! At least he would show them that they were entirely at the mercy of himself and the driver! They would do as they were told! They found everyone out on the terrace, and when Grigge and the driver approached, Bertran and Denise ran to meet them. “Tell us the news!” they cried. Cécile and Hortense, each with an arm about the governess, came slowly down the terrace steps. Their eyes were red with crying. It was nearly a week since the children had gone, and there had been no word of them. The coach driver did not bow, for he was a good republican at heart, and in those days of the revolution bowing had gone out of fashion. He was doing this for the sake of a friend who had done much for him, and he wanted them to understand this. “Citizeness, you and your charges are in grave danger. I hope you deserve the good chance for your life which I am giving you. I have a note from Dian, the shepherd, who is in Paris——” Madame Le Pont gave an exclamation, and Denise ran up to the driver and caught his hand. “Tell me, did he speak of maman and Lisle, and have you heard news of my little sister?” she cried. Her hair fell in disorder about her tear-stained face and her lips trembled. The driver shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean. I only know what I’m to do, and that is in case of danger, to take you as near to Calais as I dare; and that will be a good ways from the Calais gates, I can tell you. I think something of my own head and have no wish to have it chopped off by Madame La Guillotine. Well, there’s danger right enough. You must come with us at once. Have you wits enough about you to rig yourselves up in plain, decent, sensible farmer clothes? I often take farmer folks into the towns. Hurry! You’ve no time to lose. They are burning houses all along the line and yours is on the list!” While the driver had been speaking they had all gathered about him, too amazed to utter a sound. When the governess started to protest, the driver put up his hand. “You are stupid, citizeness, and by your stupidity may loose your own life and the lives of those in your care. Get yourselves dressed at once. My coach is in the highroad. We must start within an hour. Every rod nearer to Calais means safety for you, and just that much farther away from some of your enemies.” “I’ll ride my horse,” said Bertran a little stupidly. He was dazed by all that the man had said. “You’ll do it if you want to lose your fine, black head, but not otherwise, my young popinjay,” answered the driver calmly.