here do not dream of the way in which we could and would rise to
meet new foes. But here is our own little battle. I have yet to tell
you what she did and my further reflections. After you got her away
from the count, and Alphonse guided her, she walked through the rain
in the darkness to her small chalet beyond the Bois."

"But," said I, "why did not the count follow and get there, as he
could have done, before her?"

"I do not know. He was, you said, a bit dazed and his head cut.
Probably he felt it to be needful to secure aid from the police, as he
did later."

"Yes, that must have been the case."

"Her old American nurse has charge of the chalet. At times madame
spends a few days there. She explained her condition as the result of
a carriage accident, and, I fancy, must have taken her nurse into her
confidence. She did not tell me. A fire was made in her boudoir, and,
with some change of dress, she sat down to think. She knew that, soon
or late, the count must confess his loss, and then that the whole
police force of Paris would concentrate its skill first on preventing
her from using the papers, and finally on securing them. They would at
once suspect that she had made her singular dash for the chalet to
conceal the papers, as the count must have inferred. She was one woman
against the power, intelligence, and limitless resources of an army.
If the count acted with reasonable promptness, the time left her to
hide the papers was likely to be short.

"She had adopted and dropped one plan after another as she walked
through the night. Then, as she sat in despair, she had an
inspiration. The fireplace was kept, after the common American way,
full of unremoved wood ashes. It suggested a resource. To lessen the
size of the package she hastily removed the many envelops of the
contained papers and also the thick double outside cover. Then she
tied them together, raked away the newly made fire, and setting the
lessened package on the hearth, far back, piled the cold ashes over
it. It was safe from combustion. Finally, she replaced the cinders and
set on top some burning twigs and a small log or two. The fire was
soon burning brightly. For a few minutes she sat thinking that she
must burn the envelops. It was now late. The gate-bell rang. Three
hours had gone by since she left the count. In great haste she tore up
the thick outside envelops and other covers and hastily scattered
them on the flames. She did succeed in