"I know," Sylvia Thorne said, looking at him. "I know, and still I thank you; and, in good faith, I would be gone willingly enough from out this place, but not"--and for a moment, just a moment, her stateliness left her, and she placed her hands before her eyes--"not at the risk, the danger to you, that must surely arise." "The danger is not worth a thought. The English are all around, are near. Only a few hours ago I encountered some English officers not twenty miles from here. Once we reach Athlone's forces, or those of Lord Cutts, we are in safe hands. Our lines stretch from near Venloo almost to Rotterdam; an English road would not be more safe. And the sea is ours; the fleets of Rooke, of Shovel, are all about. Decide--and come, I do beseech you." "The danger to you," Sylvia said, as now she escorted him to the verandah, "is neither in Holland nor on the high seas. It is here. Here, in Liége! If it is once discovered that you, an Englishman, have entered this city as a Frenchman, that you are endeavouring to quit it while assisting a countrywoman to also do so, you will never leave it alive. Never! Never! Your chivalry will have led you to your doom. Ah! Mr. Bracton," she continued, "there is no danger to me; therefore, I implore you, leave me. Leave me. Escape yourself, as, alone, you may well do. Escape while there is time." "Never!" While, as he spoke, Sylvia Thorne, looking at him in the light of the now rising moon, saw that he smiled. "Never! If you will not come, if you will not do your guardian's bidding, then I have another resource." "Another resource?" "Why, yes: I stay here with you!" "Ah, no! Ah, no!" "Yes, I remain with you. When the Allies come near here, as come they surely will--are they not besieging Kaiserswörth--do they not hold Maestricht--is not Venloo, close by, threatened?--there will be terrible trouble in Liége. Those French regiments outside will be drawn nearer; some will be thrown into the city, besides those already in the Citadel and the Chartreuse; a terrible state of things will prevail, an awful licence. I know the French--we have met before! Therefore I will not go and leave you, having found you. I undertook to do this thing, and I will stand by my word--my word given to my kinsman and your guardian. We leave this city together on our road to the Allies, if not to England, or----" "Yes--or----" "We remain in it together. I will never set eyes on Peterborough's face again till I stand before him with you by my side--and safe." As Bevill Bracton spoke thus while standing, hat in hand, on the crushed shells of the path below the verandah steps, and while looking upwards at the young mistress of the great house, the summer night had fallen almost entirely, and, beyond the faint light of the dusk and that of the stars, all was dark around.