It pleased and flattered me, the strategy of this wonderful young creature.  She led me, with dainty steps, through a dewy garden walk into the trail.

“Parbleu!” she whispered, “is it not a shame to take you from your meat?  But I could not help it.  I had to see you; there is something I wish to say.”

“A pretty girl is better than meat,” I answered quickly.  “I am indebted to you.”

“My! but you have a ready tongue,” said she.  “It is with me a pleasure to listen.  You are going away?  You shall not return—­perhaps?”

She was trying to look very gay and indifferent, but in her voice I could detect a note of trouble.  The flame of passion, quenched for a little time by the return of peril and the smoke of gunpowder, flashed up in me.

“It is this,” she went on:  “I may wish you to do me a favor.  May I have your address?”

“And you may command me,” I said as I gave it to her.

“Have a care!” she said, laughing.  “I may ask you to do desperate things—­you may need all your valor.  The count and the baroness—­they may send us back to France.”

“Which will please you,” I remarked.

“Perhaps,” she said quickly.  “Mon Dieu!  I do not know what I want; I am a fool.  Take this.  Wear it when you are gone.  Not that I care—­but—­it will make you remember.”

She held in her fingers a flashing emerald on a tiny circlet of gold.  Before I could answer she had laid it in my hard palm and shut my hand upon it.

“Dieu!” she exclaimed, whispering, “I must return—­I must hurry.  Remember, we did not find the ring.”

I felt a great impulse to embrace her and confess my love.  But I was not quick enough.  Before I could speak she had turned away and was running.  I called to her, but she did not turn or seem to hear me.  She and my opportunity were gone.

We stowed the prisoners in the big coach at the baroness, behind a lively team of four.  Then my horse and one for D’ri were brought up.

“Do not forget,” said the baroness, holding my hand, “you are always welcome in my house.  I hope, ma foi! that you will never find happiness until you return.”

The young ladies came not to the step where we were, but stood by the count waving adieux.  Louison had a merry smile and a pretty word of French for me; Louise only a sober look that made me sad, if it did not speak for the same feeling in her.  The count was to remain at the Hermitage, having sent to the chateau for a squad of his armed retainers.  They were to defend the house, if, by chance, the British should renew their attack.  Mr. Parish and his footman and the general went with us, the former driving.  D’ri and I rode on behind as the coach went off at a gallop.