ost supernatural. It was a weary tramp,
half a league along the stony side of the cliffs, but never for a moment
did his courage give way or his muscles yield to fatigue. On he tramped,
with firm footstep, his vigorous arms encircling the precious burden,
and . . . no doubt, as she lay, quiet and happy, at times lulled to
momentary drowsiness, at others watching, through the slowly gathering
morning light, the pleasant face with the lazy, drooping blue eyes, ever
cheerful, ever illumined with a good-humoured smile, she whispered many
things, which helped to shorten the weary road, and acted as a soothing
balsam to his aching sinews.

The many-hued light of dawn was breaking in the east, when at last they
reached the creek beyond Gris Nez. The galley lay in wait: in answer to
a signal from Sir Percy, she drew near, and two sturdy British sailors
had the honour of carrying my lady into the boat.

Half an hour later, they were on board the DAY DREAM. The crew, who of
necessity were in their master's secrets, and who were devoted to
him heart and soul, were not surprised to see him arriving in so
extraordinary a disguise.

Armand St. Just and the other fugitives were eagerly awaiting the advent
of their brave rescuer; he would not stay to hear the expressions of
their gratitude, but found the way to his private cabin as quickly as he
could, leaving Marguerite quite happy in the arms of her brother.

Everything on board the DAY DREAM was fitted with that exquisite luxury,
so dear to Sir Percy Blakeney's heart, and by the time they all landed
at Dover he had found time to get into some of the sumptuous clothes
which he loved, and of which he always kept a supply on board his yacht.

The difficulty was to provide Marguerite with a pair of shoes, and great
was the little middy's joy when my lady found that she could put foot on
English shore in his best pair.

The rest is silence!--silence and joy for those who had endured so much
suffering, yet found at last a great and lasting happiness.

But it is on record that at the brilliant wedding of Sir Andrew
Ffoulkes, Bart., with Mlle. Suzanne de Tournay de Basserive, a function
at which H. R. H. the Prince of Wales and all the ELITE of fashionable
society were present, the most beautiful woman there was unquestionably
Lady Blakeney, whilst the clothes of Sir Percy Blakeney wore were the
talk of the JEUNESSE DOREE of London for many days.

It is also a fact that M. Chauvelin