She breathed a sigh of relief, and Helen drew a deep breath which filled the depths of her eyes with the triumph of freedom from the memory of the scene under the tree and of more things than her mind could catalogue. Even Madame Ribot was susceptible to the glory of those eyes. It occurred to her that Helen did have moments when she was not plain. "Thank you, mother!" she said. "I--I----" and she caught her mother's hands in hers and kissed her on the forehead. "And not a word to anybody!" The desire for movement which always came to her when she was happy called for the open. She did not know where she should go, but somewhere out into the night under the stars, in sight of the gun-flashes. Below, she found Phil and Jacqueline gathering bric-à-brac and china and wrapping it in papers and putting it in a chest. "You're through packing?" Phil asked. "Quite ready," said Helen. He was the one person she did not want to meet. "Then sleep for you! No telling whether you'll get any to-morrow." "I could not--not to-night!" The joy of her decision still remained in her eyes and her exclamation sounded a vitality that seemed to live on itself. "In that case, Jacqueline and I will welcome an assistant," said he. She could hardly go moon-gazing when there was something to do, so she joined in their task. They rolled up rugs; they took down Henriette's pictures and put all in a closet, which was locked when it was full to overflowing. It was strange doing this when she would be there to-morrow, and stranger still working with him in view of what had happened. At length it became oppressive, even torturing in its fellowship of talk and laughter. For she found herself laughing a number of times when their glances met as he passed her something and she relied on his masculine strength and he on her deftness of fingers in their work. "Enough! There's little left that the Germans can harm. I really believe I could sleep now!" she exclaimed. "We can lie down for a couple of hours, anyway," he said. They went upstairs together and parted at the landing. "Good-night--or is it good-morning?" he said. "Good-morning!" she answered. For an instant of silence both seemed arrested as they looked at each other; then Helen turned abruptly toward her room. CHAPTER XVI A CHANGE OF PLANS Count de la Grange was in the yard with his trap and a peasant's cart for the baggage soon after dawn. He was fretting a little lest his passengers should be late, but relieved to find that the General was absent. "There will be a crush. All the village knows. Everybody is trying to get away," he said. Jacqueline had coffee ready and insisted that they must take it before they started. Madame Ribot wore a veil and had too much powder on her face; but nothing was lacking in hers or the Count's manners. Not until he had helped her into the trap, and they were well started on the way, did it occur to any one to ask where Helen was.