Passing through another door facing the one they had entered the room by, our hero perceived they were in a large species of hall, with a wide wooden staircase, leading up into a heavy, clumsy gallery. Seeing a door open at the further end, he walked on, and, passing out, perceived a young woman, the same who was milking the cows when they first arrived, coming across a wide, paved court with a gate at the end leading into a large orchard, very thickly planted. The girl, when she came up, looked our hero in the face, and said— “Do you, monsieur, follow me at a short distance; and if we pass any one, do not speak or notice them.” She then turned round and walked on rapidly, opening the gate into the orchard. Lieutenant Thornton and his companion followed, and crossing the orchard, the girl passed out through a wicker gate, in an immensely thick, lofty hedge. There was a narrow road outside, and along this their guide proceeded, at a quick pace, till she came to a stile, where she quitted the road, and crossed two fields; and then our hero perceived right before them, surrounded by woods, a château, or country mansion, of considerable dimensions, with its quaint, high, tiled roof, innumberable chimneys and gables, and a fine lawn, bordered with lofty trees before its front. The girl led the way towards the back; a high stone wall shut in the out offices and large gardens, in which was a strong door, which she unlocked, and made a motion with her hand for them to come up, which they did, and entered through the door into a court-yard of considerable extent, and scrupulously neat. “We have been very fortunate,” said the young woman; “I do not think any one observed us; it is a fête day at Havre, and nearly all our lads and lasses are gone there.” “What château is this?” asked our hero, looking up at the building, which seemed to have been recently repaired and painted. “This château!” said the girl, surprised. “Why, I thought mother told you! This is Coulancourt.” “Coulancourt!” returned our hero, with a start. “Yes,” said Annette Moret, the dame’s eldest unmarried daughter. “This is where the good duke was born; he was then only the Count de Coulancourt, his elder brother the duke held the great estates near Lyons, at whose death the late duke came to the title, and went to live near Lyons, and there married an English lady. But mon Dieu! how I am talking, and keeping you, monsieur, standing here in the yard!” Lieutenant Thornton was so much surprised that he stood immersed in thought, till roused by Annette requesting him to walk in, having unlocked a door from a bunch of keys in her little basket. Our hero looked round astonished, for all within the mansion was neat, and carefully preserved; they passed into the kitchen, where every utensil was bright and tidy, as if a dozen fairy hands had presided over them.