I had now come to the gardens of the Tuileries, and, putting Couronne at the wall which was just being raised around them, found myself within a quarter-mile of our place of meeting. The turf was soft and level here, and I let Couronne go at a half-gallop, keeping in the chequered shade of the huge trees, which whispered strange things to each other in the breeze. At this moment it seemed as if I heard the smothered neigh of a horse. I knew the sound well, for often had my old Norman tried to serve me in this way through the scarf by which his jaws were bound together when we lay in ambuscade. With a touch of my hand I stayed my beast and stopped to listen. Beyond me stretched the avenue, at the end of which stood the great lime trees. I could see nothing but the ghostly line of trunks, lit up here by the moon, there standing out black against the night, or fading away into a lacework of leaves and branches. There was no sound except the tinkle of the leaves and the sullen creaking of the boughs overhead. 'It must be her horse or Palings,' I said aloud to myself; and then the compline came to me clear and sweet from the spire of St. Germain. I lifted my hat for an instant with a silent prayer to God for help, and then shook up Couronne. Ere the last notes of the bells had gone I was under the limes. At first I could see nothing; there was no one there; and my heart grew cold at the thought that some danger had overtaken my dear one. 'Madame!' I called out. 'It is I---d'Auriac' Then a figure in a grey mantle stepped out from the shadow of the trees, and I sprang from the saddle and held out my hand. 'I knew it was you, chevalier,' she said, 'but I wanted to make certain and waited until you spoke.' 'I hope I have not kept you waiting?' 'Indeed no. I had but just come across from the Louvre when you arrived.' 'Then you did not come riding?' 'How could I? I have been in the Louvre, and am expected to be at the _coucher_ of Madame Catherine in a half-hour,' and she laughed slightly. The thought of that smothered neigh flashed through my mind like lightning. 'We must trust ourselves to Couronne,' I said. 'Palin will be at the Porte St. Denis. There is no time to waste; come!' Then it seemed that she hesitated, and, flinging back her hood, looked me full in the face. In the moonlight I saw her white as marble, and she suddenly put out both her hands, saying: 'I trust you utterly, d'Auriac' Man is not made of stone, and I loved this woman as my life. There was that in her voice, in the pitiful appeal of its tones, that broke down all my false pride. I cannot say how it happened, but in a moment my arm was round her waist, and I drew her towards me, she nothing resisting. 'Claude, I love you. Give me the right to protect you.' What she said is for my ears alone; and then she lay still and passive in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder. So for a time we stood in silence, and then I kissed her.