When Felix and I went to the house, we were received by the countess, who was not at all pleased by the news of Jeanne’s approaching departure.  “What new conspiracy is this,” she asked, “that you need a young girl for an ally?  Have you not men enough to do your work?”

“Ah,” laughed Felix playfully, “you wish to discover our secrets.  It is quite useless, my lady; we are proof against all your wiles; but on her return, Mademoiselle Jeanne shall tell you herself; you won’t be able to do any mischief then!”

“You are a saucy boy!” exclaimed the countess, pinching his ear.  “And pray, which of you is to be Jeanne’s escort?”

“I am sending my servant,” I answered.  “He is very trustworthy, and will guard her with his own life.”

“Do you intend your sister to walk to Rochelle?” she asked, the humorous twinkle coming back to her eyes.

“I am going to procure a carriage.”

“You will do nothing of the kind!” she declared emphatically.  “I am not supposed to be acquainted with your stupid plots, and your sister shall go to Rochelle in my carriage, drawn by my horses, and driven by my coachman.  The poor beasts will probably die of the plague in that gloomy hole, but they must take their chance.  Now, do not speak!  I am not to be lectured by two giddy boys.  And do not kiss me, Felix!  What I am doing is for Jeanne.  Perhaps when they cut off my head for joining in your horrid conspiracy you will be sorry.  Now, have the horses put into the carriage, while I see Jeanne.”

“She is a generous soul!” exclaimed Felix, as we left the room.  “She has many strange whims, but no one could be more loyal to a friend, and she has grown to love Jeanne very dearly.”

“She is exceedingly kind,” I said, “and the more so since we have no claims on her generosity.”

By the time Jacques arrived everything was ready, and we had only to bid my sister good-bye.  She bore up bravely, but the parting was a painful one, for in our hearts both Felix and I had an uneasy feeling that we were saying farewell to her for ever.  Of this, fortunately, she had no suspicion, and she promised the countess to return directly the business with the commandant was finished.

“Remember,” I whispered to Jacques, as the coachman gathered up the reins, “there must be no delay.  Reach Rochelle as quickly as possible, and keep your mistress there until I send to you.  The commandant, who will understand the real purpose of the journey, will help you.”

Jacques drew up beside the carriage; Jeanne, leaning out, fluttered her dainty handkerchief; we waved our hands in response, and she was gone.

“Jeanne is a brave girl and a good girl,” said the countess.  “I wish she were my daughter.  And now, you two villains, who have deprived an old woman of her only pleasure in life, leave me.  I am going to my room, where I can cry comfortably.  I am not so young that tears will spoil my eyes.”