, when informed of this plan, "that it is not
I who wear the breeches. But I will make it clear to Jean that if
he fails to carry out his task he need not show his face at the gate
again."

The Marquis ran hither and thither, making a hundred suggestions, which
were accepted in the soothing manner adopted toward children. He assured
Juliette that their absence would be of short duration; that there was
indeed no danger, but that he was acceding to the urgent persuasions of
Barebone and Colville, who were perhaps unnecessarily alarmed--who did
not understand how affairs were conducted in France. He felt assured
that law and order must prevail.

"But if they have put Albert de Chantonnay in prison, why should you
be safe?" asked Juliette. To which the Marquis replied with a meaning
cackle that she had a kind heart, and that it was only natural that it
should be occupied at that moment with thoughts of that excellent young
man who, in his turn, was doubtless thinking of her in his cell at La
Rochelle.

Which playful allusion to Albert de Chantonnay's pretensions was
received by their object with a calm indifference.

"When Jean returns," she said, practically, "I will send him to you at
the Bremonts' cottage with food and clothing. But you must not attempt
to communicate with us. You would only betray your whereabouts and do
no good to us. We shall be quite safe in the chateau. Marie and I and
Madame Maugiron are not afraid."

At which the Marquis laughed heartily. It was so amusing to think that
one should be young and pretty and not afraid. In the mean time Barebone
was sealing his letter to Captain Clubbe. He had written it in the
Suffolk dialect, spelling all the words as they are pronounced on that
coast and employing when he could the Danish and Dutch expressions
in daily use on the foreshore, which no French official seeking to
translate could find in any dictionary.

Lao gave his instructions to Jean himself, who received them in a
silence not devoid of intelligence. The man had been round the walls and
reported that nothing stirred beneath them; that there was more than
one fire in the town, and that the streets appeared to be given over to
disorder and riot.

"It is assuredly a change in the Government," he explained, simply. "And
there will be many for Monsieur l'Abbe to bury on Sunday."

Jean was to accompany them to the cottage of an old man who had once
lived by ferrying the rare passenger across th