me one to look
after us."

Marguerite was so happy, she could have stayed here for ever, hearing
his voice, asking a hundred questions. But at mention of Chauvelin's
name she started in quick alarm, afraid for the dear life she would have
died to save.

"But how can we get back?" she gasped; "the roads are full of soldiers
between here and Calais, and . . ."

"We are not going back to Calais, sweetheart," he said, "but just the
other side of Gris Nez, not half a league from here. The boat of the DAY
DREAM will meet us there."

"The boat of the DAY DREAM?"

"Yes!" he said, with a merry laugh; "another little trick of mine. I
should have told you before that when I slipped that note into the hut,
I also added another for Armand, which I directed him to leave behind,
and which has sent Chauvelin and his men running full tilt back to
the 'Chat Gris' after me; but the first little note contained my real
instructions, including those to old Briggs. He had my orders to go out
further to sea, and then towards the west. When well out of sight of
Calais, he will send the galley to a little creek he and I know of, just
beyond Gris Nez. The men will look out for me--we have a preconcerted
signal, and we will all be safely aboard, whilst Chauvelin and his
men solemnly sit and watch the creek which is 'just opposite the "Chat
Gris."'"

"The other side of Gris Nez? But I . . . I cannot walk, Percy," she
moaned helplessly as, trying to struggle to her tired feet, she found
herself unable even to stand.

"I will carry you, dear," he said simply; "the blind leading the lame,
you know."

Sir Andrew was ready, too, to help with the precious burden, but Sir
Percy would not entrust his beloved to any arms but his own.

"When you and she are both safely on board the DAY DREAM," he said to
his young comrade, "and I feel that Mlle. Suzanne's eyes will not greet
me in England with reproachful looks, then it will be my turn to rest."

And his arms, still vigorous in spite of fatigue and suffering, closed
round Marguerite's poor, weary body, and lifted her as gently as if she
had been a feather.

Then, as Sir Andrew discreetly kept out of earshot, there were many
things said, or rather whispered, which even the autumn breeze did not
catch, for it had gone to rest.

All his fatigue was forgotten; his shoulders must have been very sore,
for the soldiers had hit hard, but the man's muscles seemed made of
steel, and his energy was alm