John’s faith was already strong, but Suzanne’s made it stronger.  A high nature always tries to deserve the trust it receives.  Early the following morning the automobile was ready, and Julie and Suzanne, wrapped in their cloaks, took their places inside.  John stood beside it, in chauffeur’s garb with cap and glasses.

“It’s the last look at the lodge, Julie,” he said.  “When the Prince of Auersperg built it he never dreamed that it would serve as a refuge for those who were escaping from him.  But it hasn’t been such a bad home, has it?”

“No,” she replied.  “It will always have a place among my pleasant memories.”

“And among mine.”

He sprang into his seat and grasped the wheel.  The automobile began a slow and cautious descent of the mountain’s southward slope.  However reluctant one is to prepare for a start there is invariably a certain elation after the start is made, and John felt the uplift now.  He could not yet see his way out of Austria, but he felt that he would find it.  He did not even know where their present road led, except that it disappeared in a valley, filled with mists and vapors from the melting snows.

John had preserved the pass given to him by the German officer, and thinking he might be able to make use of it again, he dropped the name of John Scott once more and returned to that of Jean Castel, asking Julie and Suzanne to remember the change, whenever they should meet anyone.  But it was a long before they saw a human being.

They came at last to the bottom of a narrow valley, and the strain of driving under such dangerous circumstances had been so great that John felt compelled to take a rest of a half-hour.  Julie descended from the machine and walked back and forth in the road.  They saw that they were in a narrow valley down which flowed a stream, much swollen by the melting snow.  But the grass and foliage were heavy here and the air was warm.

“I have resolved, Julie,” said John, “to say, if we are pressed closely, that you are a lady of the household of the Prince of Auersperg, accompanied by your maid, and that, wishing to get out of the war zone, I’m deputed to carry you to the port of Trieste.  I can’t think of anything else that seems likely to serve us better.”

“We’re in your hands.”

“Aye, so we are, sir,” said the bold Suzanne, “but we also have hands of our own and can help.”

“I know it, Suzanne, and I know that you will not fail when the time comes.”

Julie returned to the machine and John put his hand on the wheel again, finding it a great relief to drive on a fairly level road.  Throughout the descent of the slope he had been in fear of skidding and a fatal smash.  Although much snow was left on the crests and sides of the mountains, none was visible in the valley, and the great mass of green foliage was restful to the eye.

“The first inhabitant to greet us,” said John.