"Swear to me," she said, and she emphasized the command, for it was no longer an entreaty, by a fierce clutch at her cousin's wrist, "never to a soul till the day of your death will you breathe a word of it. Swear." "I do swear it, Lucy," replied the dominated victim, and she buried her face in her hands. The next day the two English ladies left the Villa Lambert in an open carriage. The faithful Capt was told to be ready for their return in a few days' time. Considerably to his astonishment, he did not accompany them. As the carriage drove away the valet lighted one of those long and peculiarly nasty cigars which his countrymen seem so much to enjoy. He stood watching the carriage rapt in meditation, and his face wore a puzzled air. Then he did what no economic Switzer has probably done before or since--he actually flung away the still burning abomination. Then he spat upon the ground, and with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders re-entered the house. The carriage took the ladies and their maid to a small town, some twelve miles off. They put up at the hotel. Next morning they took tickets by the steamer to Geneva, but less than half-way they got out at a small village, Auray, a little place totally devoid of interest, a mere hamlet never visited by the tourist; here they took a lodging, humble enough, but clean, in the house of a well-to-do widow. It was from this lodging that Georgie posted a letter containing the following advertisement, which appeared in the _Times_: "At the Villa Lambert, Canton of Geneva, Switzerland, the wife of Reginald Haggard, Esq., of a son. August 20, 18--." The cousins exchanged _rôles_. Lucy became Madame Haggard, while Georgie was addressed by the discreet Hephzibah as Mademoiselle Warrender. The whole thing had evidently been carefully planned by Lucy for some time previously. She had even with infinite art written numerous letters to their relatives and friends, in which she dilated upon the strange reticence of "dear Georgie" as to the whole matter. Needless to say these letters were all dated from the Villa Lambert. In her letter to Haggard, and in her more formal communication to the head of the family, the old earl at Walls End Castle, she explained how her cousin had kept the whole matter secret as a surprise for her husband; and how she, the guileless Lucy, had been unwillingly compelled to participate in the deception. All was thus satisfactorily explained as the whim of the young wife. How she had purchased the silence of the invaluable maid it is difficult to say, whether by bribes, promises or cajolery; but Hephzibah Wallis was the servant of the Warrenders, born and bred on their land, discreet and silent.