And so, all had fallen out fortunately, and
here we were, with whole skins, sitting at ease at the inn, and like
all people who have passed through agitating times, disposed to
rejoice in our present peace.

Almost the first thing Francezka, womanlike, asked of Madame Riano
was, whether she had saved their boxes. This, madame had been
fortunate enough to do. Francezka, with sparkling eyes, called her
maid, Elizabeth--an elderly woman, sister of Peter, and who seemed as
happy to see her as was Madame Riano--and the two disappeared
together. When Francezka came out again she was dressed in a robe of
pale blue stuff, with a gauze kerchief folded across her beautiful
white neck, and looked like a rose in bloom. No wonder neither of the
Chevernys could keep his eyes from her!

Supper was served in Madame Riano's room, and we were a merry party,
for runaways. Madame Riano was more considerate of Count Saxe than I
had ever known her to be before, and indulged in no flouts or gibes.
We sang at table, according to the French custom, and Gaston Cheverny,
who was easily master of us all in that craft, sang a song of the
Cardinal de Rohan and sang it with meaning in his voice--a meaning
which brought deep blushes to Francezka's cheek, a scowl to Regnard
Cheverny's face, and smiles to the rest of us.

There was an ancient and rickety harpsichord in the room, on which
mademoiselle played with much skill, and with a dainty hand. Then
Madame Riano made us all sing Jacobite songs, joining in herself, with
a voice like the rasping of a saw, and forcing us all to rise and pay
royal honors to the name of Prince Charles Edward Stuart; and the
evening went cheerfully, with music and pleasant conversation.

When mademoiselle had retired, Madame Riano called a council of war.
The first thing to settle was the matter of the ransom of ten thousand
crowns. Gaston Cheverny, like a youngster of spirit, talked as if ten
thousand crowns was a mere bagatelle, although we all knew it was
enough to swallow up his whole estate. He would pay it all--yes, he
would--and would run any man through who dared hint anything else.
Madame Riano, however, and Count Saxe, getting him between them,
fairly intimidated him, and he was finally brought to consent, sulky
and fuming, to paying only one-half of the money, the other half being
due, by common honesty, from Mademoiselle Capello's great estates.
Count Saxe meant, of course, to make the payment of Gaston's