he girl pressed her lips together. "They are all polite here," she
said briefly. "Do you mean that you go in and out of this hole as
you like? Do they know of it? Is it far from here?"

"It's over there," Caroline waved, vaguely. "Why? Do you want to
escape, too? Are you a queen?"

"No." The girl said it with a slight shudder. "No, I'm not.
I'm--I'm--Oh, I'm Joan of Arc! You know about her, don't you, dear?"

Caroline nodded. "Are you trying to escape?" she repeated,
interested at last.

"Yes," said the girl, "I am. But don't tell any one, will you? Don't
tell that gardener, for instance."

"Oh, no," Caroline assured her, "I won't tell. Wouldn't he help
you?"

The girl laughed, an excited, sobbing laugh.

"No, he wouldn't help me at all," she said. "Come on, walk a little.
He is watching us. Don't tell him about the hole, will you? Promise
me faithfully." She turned and seized the child's wrist. "Can you
keep a promise?" she panted.

"Of course I can."

"And if any one should ask you, could you--oh, _could_ you say you
came in by the gate?"

Caroline wriggled free.

"Of course," she said scornfully. "Do you think I'm a baby?"

"Don't be angry--don't," the girl pleaded. "I don't mean to frighten
you--your Majesty, I mean--but I am so excited, and--and I don't
quite do what I intend to do or say just what I mean. I am quite all
right now. You see, that gardener--he isn't really a gardener." She
watched Caroline narrowly, quite unprepared for the sudden delight
in her eyes.

"Oh, _he's_ pretending, too!" cried Mary of Scots joyfully. "What is
he, really?"

"He's--he's one of my jailers," said the girl somberly. "And the
first thing he would do would be to stop up your hole under the
fence."

"Oh!" Caroline stared respectfully at the gardener, not far from
them now.

"Were you ever in chains?" she said, in an awed voice.

"No," said Joan of Arc, "I never was. I wouldn't be in this--this
fortress if I had to be in chains. This is for well-behaved
prisoners."

"Is Marie Antoinette a prisoner, too?"

"Yes," said the girl, wearily, "she is. And she has kept me one. I
should not be here now but for her. She prevented my escape."

"The mean old thing!" Caroline cried, indignantly, "did she tell?"

"She called that gardener," said the girl, "just as I was walking
out of the little gate. Of course I had to walk slowly. She is very
malicious--poor thing," she added quickly.

They were close to a littl