I was myself just wondering how the Duchess of Saint-Maclou found it, when a loud cry of warning startled us.  We had been standing on the edge of the road, and a horse, going at a quick trot, was within five yards of us.  As it reached us, it was sharply reined in.  To my amazement, old Jean, the duchess’ servant, sat upon it.  When he saw me, a smile spread over his weather-beaten face.

“I was nearly over you,” said he.  “You had no ears.”

And I am sorry to say that Jean winked, insinuating that Marie Delhasse and I had been preoccupied.

The diplomacy of non-recognition had failed to strike Jean.  I made the best of a bad job, and asked: 

“What brings you here?”

Marie stood a few paces off, regarding us.

“I’m looking for Mme. la Duchesse,” grinned Jean.

Marie Delhasse took a step forward when she heard his reference to the duchess.

“Her absence was discovered by Suzanne at six o’clock this morning,” the old fellow went on.  “And the duke—­ah, take care how you come near him, sir!  Oh, it’s a kettle of fish!  For as I came I met that coxcomb Lafleur riding back with a message from the duke’s guests that they would not come to-day!  So the duchess is gone, and the ladies are not come; and the duke—­he has nothing to do but curse that whippersnapper of a Pierre who came last night.”

And Jean ended in a rapturous hoarse chuckle.

“You were riding so fast, then, because you were after the duchess?” I suggested.

“I rode fast for fear,” said Jean, with a shrewd smile, “that I should stop somewhere on the road.  Well, I have looked in Avranches.  She is not in Avranches.  I’ll go home again.”

Marie Delhasse came close to my side.

“Ask him,” she said to me, “if he speaks of the Duchess of Saint-Maclou.”

I put the question as I was directed.

“You couldn’t have guessed better if you’d known,” said Jean; and a swift glance from Marie Delhasse told me that her suspicion as to my knowledge was aroused.

“And what will happen, Jean?” said I.

“The good God knows,” shrugged Jean.  Then, remembering perhaps my five-franc pieces, he said politely, “I hope you are well, sir?”

“Up to now, thank you, Jean,” said I.

His glance traveled to Marie.  I saw his shriveled lips curl; his expression was ominous of an unfortunate remark.

“Good-by!” said I significantly.

Jean had some wits.  He spared me the remark, but not the sly leer that had been made to accompany it.  He clapped his heels to his horse’s side and trotted off in the direction from which he had come.  So that he could swear he had been to Avranches, he was satisfied!

Marie Delhasse turned to me, asking haughtily: 

“What is the meaning of this?  What do you know of the Duke or Duchess of Saint-Maclou?”

“I might return your question,” said I, looking her in the face.