, instead of exhausting Marie-Anne, seemed to
revive her. After five or six days the color came back to her cheek and
her strength returned.

"Fate seems to have relaxed her rigor," said Maurice, one day. "Who
knows what compensations the future may have in store for us!"

No, fate had not taken pity upon them; it was only a short respite
granted by destiny. One lovely April morning the fugitives stopped for
breakfast at an inn on the outskirts of a large city.

Maurice having finished his repast was just leaving the table to settle
with the hostess, when a despairing cry arrested him.

Marie-Anne, deadly pale, and with eyes staring wildly at a paper which
she held in her hand, exclaimed in frenzied tones:

"Here! Maurice! Look!"

It was a French journal about a fortnight old, which had probably been
left there by some traveller.

Maurice seized it and read:

"Yesterday, Lacheneur, the leader of the revolt in Montaignac, was
executed. The miserable mischief-maker exhibited upon the scaffold the
audacity for which he has always been famous."

"My father has been put to death!" cried Marie-Anne, "and I--his
daughter--was not there to receive his last farewell!"

She rose, and in an imperious voice:

"I will go no farther," she said; "we must turn back now without losing
an instant. I wish to return to France."

To return to France was to expose themselves to frightful peril. What
good would it do? Was not the misfortune irreparable?

So Corporal Bavois suggested, very timidly. The old soldier trembled at
the thought that they might suspect him of being afraid.

But Maurice would not listen.

He shuddered. It seemed to him that Baron d'Escorval must have been
discovered and arrested at the same time that Lacheneur was captured.

"Yes, let us start at once on our return!" he exclaimed.

They immediately procured a carriage to convey them to the frontier. One
important question, however, remained to be decided. Should Maurice and
Marie-Anne make their marriage public? She wished to do so, but Maurice
entreated her, with tears in his eyes, to conceal it.

"Our marriage certificate will not silence the evil disposed," said he.
"Let us keep our secret for the present. We shall doubtless remain in
France only a few days."

Unfortunately, Marie-Anne yielded.

"Since you wish it," said she, "I will obey you. No one shall know it."

The next day, which was the 14th of April, the fugitives at nightfall