"It seems to me," said Gaillard, speaking slowly, while he held his glass of wine to the light and inspected it minutely, "that if some one should approach Mademoiselle de Rochefort, purporting to come from some of her friends who have already gone abroad, and should say he was sent secretly to conduct her to them, she would be willing to go with him." "Unless she suspected him to be an impostor, she might possibly go," replied Tournay. "He will have to convince her that he is not an impostor, and after a night spent in the château alone she is more likely to believe in him," was Gaillard's reply. "How about Gardin," he asked suddenly. "Do you anticipate any further trouble from that quarter?" "I hardly think so," replied Tournay. "I shall go back to the château at once and remain in the vicinity all night unknown to Mademoiselle de Rochefort. See if you cannot procure a carriage here suitable for a long journey. Then come up the château road. I shall be in waiting for you at the entrance to the park. We will confer together as to a plan of action to be carried out at daylight." "Good," replied Gaillard; "I will set about my part of the work at once." The two men rose from the table; Gaillard went to the inn stables and Tournay mounted his horse and rode toward the château. He had not made half the distance between the village and the château when he heard a footstep crunch on the gravel of the road, and reined in his horse just as the figure of a man crept by him. "Who is there?" cried Tournay, clicking the hammer of his pistol. "A good citizen," was the reply in a timid voice. "Father, is it you?" exclaimed Tournay, springing from his horse and approaching the figure. "Is all well at the château?" "It is my son, Robert," cried the old man. "I did not recognize your voice until after I had spoken; but I am no good citizen of your present disorderly Republic." "Is all well at the château?" repeated Robert Tournay. "Well? How can we all be well when the doors are broken in and the furniture strewn about the place in pieces? Can I call all well when"-- "Mademoiselle Edmé?" interrupted Robert, with impatience, "how about her?" "She has gone," said Matthieu Tournay. "Gone!" cried Robert, clutching his father by the shoulder. "Gone--how and where?" "You need not be alarmed for her safety," said the old man; "she is with Agatha,--a brave, clever girl, capable of anything. They set out this very night to seek a refuge with some relatives of Agatha who will keep them in safety." "And you permitted them to go?" demanded the younger Tournay, almost shaking his father in his excitement. "Permitted them? Yes, and encouraged them. I would myself have gone with them if I had not feared that my feebleness would impede rather than assist their flight. As it is, you need have no apprehension; when Agatha undertakes a thing she carries it through, and mademoiselle also is resolute and strong-willed. They will be safe enough, I warrant."