"When Colonel Tournay parted from me," said Edmé impressively, "he swore that we should some day meet again. He would keep his word if it were possible. Fate has decreed that he shall not come to me; she decrees, instead, that I shall go to him." "Mademoiselle," cried Agatha in a horrified tone, "what are you saying? Think of your rank, think of your family, your pride of birth!" "My rank!" laughed Edmé scornfully. "Did that avail me when I crossed the river Loire? My pride of birth! Did that protect and bring me safely out of France? A brave and loyal man was my sole protection. He is now in the greatest danger. I am going to him." There was a ring in her voice as she spoke that seemed to bid defiance to the long line of ancestry behind her. "Now that you know that I am not to be swayed from my determination, will you go with me or remain here?" "I shall go with you, mademoiselle." "We must leave here clandestinely, Agatha. I little thought, when the kindly Grafin von Waldenmeer took me under her roof, I should leave it like this." "We shall have to travel through France in the disguise of peasants, mademoiselle," said Agatha. "We have had some experience in that disguise, Agatha. You know how well I shall be able to play my part." From Hagenhof, starting at dead of night, the two women traveled to Paris. It took them three weeks to make the journey that they had once made in five days. But they were obliged to travel slowly, as became two women of their class. On the morning of the twentieth day they found themselves in the Rue Vaugirard in Paris, almost under the very shadow of the Luxembourg. Agatha stopped before the doorway of a small house in the window of which a placard announced that lodgings were to let within. "This is what we want, mademoiselle," said the girl. "I will knock here." A woman answered the summons. She was about forty years old, with stooping shoulders, and hands gnarled and twisted by hard work. Her skin was dark, but an unhealthy pallor was upon her face, which, thin and worn, was lightened by a pair of brilliant eyes. "Can we obtain lodging here, good citizeness?" inquired Agatha. The woman did not reply at once, being busy looking at them closely with her bright eyes. "Have you any lodgings to let?" said Agatha once more. "Perhaps," was the reply. "Perhaps," repeated Edmé somewhat impatiently. "Do you not know?" "I am Citizeness Privat," the woman answered. "There are lodgings to let in this house, most assuredly, and I have charge of the renting of them; but I act for another, and he," with emphasis on the pronoun, "insists that I shall only take those who can furnish references. Can you do so?" "Let us come inside and we will see what can be done," said Agatha, pushing forward. The woman stepped back, and Edmé followed Agatha into the house. Agatha closed the door before speaking.