Leaving the Vengeance to keep watch off the Port of Havre, a thing at that period not at all a hazardous affair, whilst Vice-Admiral Colpoys was with his fleet off Brest or Isle Dieu, and few if any French vessels of war showed out of their harbours, we return to Château Coulancourt. Rather more than an hour after the departure of our hero and Bill Saunders for Lyon Head, Jean Plessis returned from Havre, looking anxious and thoughtful as he proceeded towards that part of the château inhabited by Madame Coulancourt and her daughter, and entered the saloon where he found mother, son, and daughter, and his own daughter, all conversing earnestly upon their intended plan of escape. “Where is Monsieur Thornton?” inquired Jean Plessis, looking at Julian, who was nursing his leg on a chair, in a state of great vexation at not having been able to accompany his friend. “He went to the sand hills and Lyon Head,” replied Julian. “This stupid leg of mine keeps me here. Have you heard anything alarming, Monsieur Plessis, or that annoys you? You look very thoughtful.” Mabel turned her eloquent eyes anxiously upon the intendant, as he answered— “Why, yes. I have heard intelligence that makes me wish Monsieur Thornton had not gone out to-day. I will send Joseph, the gardener’s grandson, this minute after him, to tell him to come back.” “What alarms you, Monsieur Plessis?” said Mabel. “Mon Dieu! I hope nothing serious——” “Nay,” interrupted the intendant, soothingly. “I do not feel alarmed at all, but merely anxious to let Monsieur Thornton know what I heard to-day, and to put him on his guard. I was told when in Havre that an English frigate or corvette was seen close in with the coast off Lyon Head this morning, and that some days before a very fine armed brig was chased by that vessel, but that, aided by a thick fog, the brig got into Palos Creek, and was at anchor in the pool, where the Vengeance lies. Ten or twelve of the coast-guard had at once set out for Lyon Head, at the instigation of some person residing with Monsieur Gramont who is at Rouen, and thirty or forty men belonging to an infantry regiment were to march for Palos Creek, to protect the Vengeance and the brig, should this frigate discover them to be within the creek. It would be just as well that Monsieur Thornton did not meet or fall in with the coast-guard.” “Then do not lose a moment,” cried both mother and daughter, anxiously, “in sending Joseph; he can run through the village, which is a mile shorter, and probably overtake him.” “Deuce take my leg, I was going to say!” said Julian, with a flush on his cheek from vexation; “but I mean deuce take the stone that caused me to sprain my ankle. Now that I might be of service I’m no more use than an old woman!” “But old women are sometimes very useful, Monsieur Julian,” returned Julia, with a smile, and a look at the handsome speaker, trying to rouse the mother and daughter from their sombre thoughts.