t
be in Paris ere the sun sets."

"You mean?" I said hoarsely.

"I mean that mademoiselle will die if the Vidame reaches Paris, and I
shall be lost!" And with this she flung herself back in her chair, and
began rocking herself backwards and forwards like a thing distraught,
muttering to herself: "I shall be lost! I shall be lost!"

Her devilish cunning had overreached itself, and she sat there a
pitiable object, with the ruin she had herself caused around her. I
gave her one look, and turned to De Lorgnac.

"There is just time. We may just do it. Come!"

And leaving the miserable woman with her sin we hurried from the room.

I will not stop to tell, indeed I never knew, how we pushed through the
crowds in the waiting-rooms and gained the outer courts; but ten
minutes later De Lorgnac and I, with Pierrebon at our heels, were
galloping on the Paris road, hoping almost against hope, for Simon had
nearly two hours' start of us, and our horses had been ridden far and
fast. Nevertheless, the stout heart of Lizette never flinched, and
Cartouche, De Lorgnac's great grey, raced bravely by her side. We rode
in silence, exchanging no speech, though now and again we uttered a
word of encouragement to our horses. Crossing the bridge of Melun
Pierrebon's nag failed him, and we lost him for the time. At the
little village of Cesson we drew rein to breathe our horses, and here
we had news of Simon. He had passed about an hour ago, riding easily
in the direction of Lieusaint, and keeping to the high road. At last
we were off once more, and leaving the plain of La Brie entered the
hilly country that sloped downwards to the valley of the Yeres, and on
pulling up for a moment on the crest of a hill that lay to the
northwest of Lieusaint we got a glimpse of Simon. It was De Lorgnac
who saw him first.

"There!" he said, pointing before him into the valley. And craning
forward I looked too, and saw far in the distance a white speck--a mere
speck--moving rapidly on the cross road to Montgeron, and then we lost
him behind a line of trees.

"He is cutting off the angle!" I exclaimed. "Quick!" And I put
Lizette down the slope; but De Lorgnac called out after me: "He is lost
if he does that--he will meet the marsh of Brunoy, and must come
back--keep to the road!"

And, ding, dong, we galloped on the white track, white with dust
ourselves, our gallant horses kept up by their own matchless courage,
and by that alone.

"H