“Very good,” said William Thornton, “I will keep a sharp look-out for you, and if you hold up your hand it will be sufficient.” “How far have you to swim?” questioned Lieutenant Cooke. “Not very far, monsieur,” said the stranger; “there is no boom across the basin, and once outside, I land where I left my garments.” The Frenchman thanked the Lieutenant for his courtesy, slipped over the side, and noiselessly made his way through the still waters of the basin, and was soon lost to sight. CHAPTER III. After the departure of the Frenchman, Lieutenant Cooke and William Thornton commented upon what they had just heard. “I forgot to ask the stranger,” remarked the Lieutenant, “the lady’s present title; he called her Madame la Duchesse. Her former name, at all events, was Arden.” “I dare say,” said the midshipman, “the note he presented will explain, and perhaps give some further particulars of her situation.” “True, I forgot the note; there will be daylight in another hour, its getting grey to the eastward. A terrible scene this poor lady and her child must have witnessed in Lyons,” continued the lieutenant; “the atrocities committed there by that fiend, Collet de Herbois, exceeds all human belief. The wretch found the guillotine too slow for his bloodthirsty soul; he had the unfortunate people of Lyons actually shot down by cannon, loaded with grape shot, hundreds at a time. He even undermined the streets, and blew up the houses with gunpowder,[1] tied his victims to trees, and shot them down like wild beasts. In five months this detestable monster slaughtered six thousand persons.” “What extraordinary infatuation!” exclaimed our hero. “I can scarcely understand human beings becoming so suddenly seized with such a thirst for blood.” Lieutenant Cooke, finding the daylight rapidly increasing, became curious to examine his letter. It was addressed in a female handwriting— “TO THE ENGLISH OFFICER IN COMMAND OF THE VICTORY’S BOAT.” Opening the letter, he read its contents in a low voice to William Thornton. “Sir,—Hearing that a boat from the British Admiral’s ship was lying in the dock basin, inspired me with the hope of being rescued from the perilous situation in which, with my daughter, I am placed. I am native of England, and the widow of the late Duke de Coulancourt. My first husband, the father of my little girl, was the Honourable James Somers Arden. My anxious desire is, if possible, to get on board one of the British ships, hoping thus to be able to reach England. If, therefore, any assistance can be rendered me, I shall for ever pray for the welfare of those to whom my gratitude will be due. You may implicitly trust Monsieur Jean Plessis, the bearer of this; he can give you every information. “ANNE COULANCOURT, _née_ DE BRACY.”