So it was agreed upon, while the diligence rumbled past a gentle hillside crowned by a fair chateau flanked by oak woods. When they came in sight of the oak-topped ramparts of Amiens, their plans were complete. Dick was to have a hired carriage and post-horses ready near the inn, and Collette was to join him at the inn door as soon as her aunt and the servant should be abed. Riding all night and part of the next day, they could defy pursuit, and carry out their purpose at leisure. Though they should continue towards Paris, there would be no danger of being overtaken, especially by the diligence, which, because of bad weather and bad roads, was then making smaller than the usual daily stages, as any one acquainted with the country traversed will have seen. Dick preferred not yet to take Sir Hilary into confidence; he knew where to communicate with the baronet in due time in Paris. Amiens was a large town with fine streets of well-built houses, and with a beautiful cathedral containing the head of John the Baptist; but Dick had no eye for these things on this occasion. At the inn Sir Hilary met two officers of the regiment of the Prince of Conde, on leave, and was soon lost in conversation and champagne, so that Dick was free to make his arrangements. Fortunately, the purse pressed upon Dick by the baronet in Boulogne was still nearly full. He obtained a carriage from the diligence company, and two horses and a postilion from the postman at the inn. Soon after supper, while he paced before the inn door, in the cold evening, the cloaked and hooded figure of Collette appeared from within, noiselessly; whereupon he took her hand, and the pair hastened like ghosts to the waiting carriage, which rattled away with them a minute later. A twenty-four-sous piece, handed to the sentinel, caused the city gates, which had been closed for the night, to fly open, and the jack-booted postilion was soon swearing and singing, and whipping his horses, in the open country, on the road to Chantilly. Inside the carriage, the two young people sat silent, the girl perhaps trembling now and then at thought of the leap she had taken into the unknown, Dick somewhat sobered at the responsibility he had so speedily assumed. But he was, as usual, ready for anything, and often he pressed her hand to reassure her. It was the night of Thursday, February 27, 1777. Evening had set in with increasing cold and a howling wind. Engrossed in their thoughts, Dick and Collette for two or three hours noticed not that the wind was constantly gaining in force and fury. Suddenly the carriage stopped, there was a brief wait, and the door was flung open. "It is impossible to go farther to-night, monsieur," said the postilion, thrusting in his head. "One of the horses has cast a shoe and is very lame." "But we _must_ go on," said Dick. "It is a matter of life and death." "It is simply impossible," said the postilion, stubbornly.