"Is there near Nantes, along the coast, any small and little-frequented port where one may embark secretly?" "Yes, St. Renan," answered Nominoë, raising his head and looking at Bertha with surprise; "St. Renan, near the mouth of the Loire." "Are you sure you could find there a vessel that could attempt the passage to England?" "St. Renan is a fishermen's port; their vessels are decked, and are excellent sailers; they can cross the channel with ease." "How long would it take to reach the place from here on a good horse?" "From seven to eight hours, including stops. The horse would have to be rested on the hills." "Is the road that leads to St. Renan a frequented one?" "Very slightly; it is only a cross-road." "Can one take ship at St. Renan at any tide?" "No; only when the tide is high." "At what hour could one embark to-morrow?" "At this part of the month the tide must be high between eleven and twelve at night. One would have to be at St. Renan at midnight." "Could you, between now and to-morrow," asked Bertha, "procure a carriage drawn by a good horse?" "Yes," answered Nominoë, hardly able any longer to resist the intoxication of a hope that caused his heart to beat to the breaking point. "There will be wanted, besides," said Mademoiselle Plouernel, "two mantles with hoods attached, of the kind worn by peasant women. Nominoë," she proceeded, controlling her voice which, however, vibrated under the strain of the emotions that agitated her soul at that solemn moment, "to-morrow, at three o'clock in the afternoon, wait for me a hundred paces from here, at the road of the Cross, with the carriage that you will drive. Do not forget the two hooded cloaks--one is for me, the other for Marion. The hoods will hide our faces. My leaving the castle at full daylight, and at the usual hour for my promenade, will awaken no suspicion. We shall then start instantly for St. Renan, where we shall set sail for England, and there, Nominoë," added Bertha, giving herself finally over to the impulse of her love and breaking out into tears of celestial sweetness, "our marriage--shall be consummated." "Your mask! Put your mask on! There is someone coming! Great God, my father!" cried Nominoë, perceiving Salaun Lebrenn and Serdan as they cautiously emerged from the underground gallery that led to the ruins of the dungeon of Plouernel. Mademoiselle Plouernel hastened to hide her face in the silken mask that she had laid down beside her at the start of her interview with Nominoë. The latter, stupefied at the sight of his father and Monsieur Serdan, remained silent and in consternation, while Bertha, masked, standing motionless, her arms crossed over her palpitating bosom awaited anxiously the issue of the unexpected encounter.