“Ah, that is news, indeed,” joyfully exclaimed Julian Arden, “and amply repays the years of privation, and at times suffering, that I have endured. I was aware of my beloved mother being alive and well, and in Paris; but Mabel I thought was in England—her being here amazes me. Aware that she owes her preservation and future happiness to your care and noble generosity, I longed to see you before I proceeded to seek my mother.” “Had we not better proceed to the house?” said William Thornton; “we have so much to explain and to say; but I will first break this joyful intelligence to Mabel.” “No,” said Julian, “I dare not venture there till night, after the visit of François Perrin, and the inspecting gendarmes. In my joy at meeting you, I have delayed speaking of him; I was with Dame Moret when he came to her house, stating that he was going to visit the château, and as she had informed me that you were here, she wished you to be put upon your guard. Rose Moret went on before me, so now you had better go back to the house. I will return to Dame Moret till dark, and then come here, and you can hide me for a few days, till we are enabled to talk over our position and future proceedings; after which I intend journeying to Paris. I have papers as Louis Lebeau, of Rouen, and can more readily than any Englishman pass for a French sailor, as you will be able to judge when you hear my story.” Rose Moret interrupted their further conversation, by hurrying towards them. “The gendarmes are come, monsieur, and Mademoiselle Plessis is anxious you should see them; it will remove all suspicion, though she does not think they have any.” “Very good,” said Lieutenant Thornton, “I will see them; but, Rose, you must contrive to keep Pierre Bompart out of the way.” “There’s no fear of him, monsieur,” returned Rose, laughing. “He has taken the basket with the lunch to his room, and locked himself in, grumbling a good deal, but really I have no idea about what, as there is enough in the basket to keep him a week.” “He is only lamenting, Rose, that he cannot knock the heads of the two gendarmes together; an amusement that would please him amazingly. Farewell, Julian; I shall most anxiously expect you, and you may be sure there is one that will be in a state of intense anxiety till she sees you.” “Farewell till to-night,” replied Julian, “but for heaven’s sake be cautious with those men, though Dame Moret said you spoke French very nearly like a native of the country, but of another province; and as the De Tourvilles were from Picardy, mind that, you will do very well.” So shaking hands, the young men, who already felt highly pleased with each other, parted. CHAPTER XXIX. We must now follow the footsteps of Monsieur Gramont, who, having finished singing his air of “Malbrook,” put up his fishing rod, gave a look after the retreating form of Bill Saunders, and burst into a self-satisfied laugh.