“Oh! nothing easier in that case,” interrupted Julian, eagerly, “with a boat’s crew we should seize the Vengeance, which William is so desperately anxious to do, to pay off Captain Gaudet for his cruelty, embark you on board, and before any alarm could be given at Havre, we should be at sea, and with the corvette hold our own against any armed crafts sent after us.” “Would not this involve Jean Plessis with the authorities?” asked Madame Coulancourt. “Not more than any other mode of escape,” replied her nephew; “but Monsieur Plessis is so secure of the favour of Barras, and has him so much in his power, that he feels very little uneasiness even if he remained behind. Though he has not yet spoken to you on the subject, he is nearly as anxious to quit France with his family as you are. The precariousness of life and property in this country urges him to emigrate and settle in England; and I have offered him,” continued Lieutenant Thornton, “on succeeding to the property I am entitled to, the stewardship over the whole, and a sufficient annuity to live independently on.” “Oh! I am sure,” cried both Madame Coulancourt and Mabel, eagerly, “if that is Jean Plessis’ wish and intention we shall both be able to render him not only independent, but most comfortable. He has all his life,” continued madame, “served the duke my husband, and myself, with unshaken fidelity, and I feel towards him as towards one connected with my family with ties of relationship. Julian also will be entitled to the Etherton property, though, at the same time, it will be cruel to deprive those now in possession of all they have so long considered their own; therefore, some kind of decision ought to take place. I am sure Julian will agree with me.” “Most certainly, dear mother; my uncle or his son—the latter now holds the title and property—were innocently inheritors of it, and to deprive them of all now might involve them in difficulties insurmountable.” “And yet,” said Lieutenant Thornton, somewhat sternly, “they, especially the late baronet, felt no pity or remorse in not only refusing Mabel’s claims, but in adding insult and mockery to their heartlessness, though they knew in their hearts that my poor little _protégée_, as I was then in the habit of styling her, was thrown in a manner helpless upon the exertions of two poor sailors.” “And nobly the two poor sailors protected little Mabel,” said our heroine, the tears rising in her eyes, as she looked with devoted affection into the face of her lover. “I, at all events, dear Mabel,” said our hero, “am richly repaid, by living in the memory of her I protected to the best of my ability.”